S3 

if 


— I 


WILLIAM  H.RIDEINC 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


By  the  Same  Author 

A-Saddle  in  the  Wild  West 
Thackeray's  London 
A  Little  Upstart 
The  Captured  Cunarder 
etc.         etc.         etc. 


HO IV     TTSON 
CAME  HOME 


A  Story  of  England 
and  America  by 

WILLIAM  H.  RIDEING 


JOHN   LANE         •       THE    BODLEY   HEAD 
NEW   YORK    &    LONDON          .         MCMIV 


Copyright  by  JOHN  LANK 
1904 


First  Edition,  February,  1904 
Second  Edition,  April,  1904 


Printed  by 

THE  CAXTON  PRESS 

171-173  Macdougal  SL 

New  York,  u.  s.  A. 


ft"! 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    I.  THE  STRANGER  WHO  LOST  HIS  WAY.     .      1 
n.  AN  EXCHANGE  OF  CONFIDENCES.       .        14 
m.  DINNER  AT  SHEBA.       .        .        .        .24 
IV,  A  DIFFICULT  TRAIL,  AN  OLD  PUEBLO 

AND  A  WOMAN  IN  WHITE.      ,        .        34 

V.  TYSON  DREAMS  OF  HOME.     .         .         .52 

VI.  SOME  TRANSACTIONS  IN  WALL  STREET.     62 

VII.  IN  THE  ISLE  OF  WIGHT.     ...        72 

Vin.  TYSON  DINES  WITH  SOME  FASHIONABLE 

PEOPLE.        .        •        •        •  89 

IX.  IN  WHICH  TYSON  LOOKS  FOR  MARY.      .  103 

X.  THE  ROSE  IN  TYSON'S  POCKETBOOK.       114 

XI.  TYSON  MEETS  A  MODERN  FINANCIER.    .  126 

XII.  THE  GIRL  WHO  HAD  DISAPPEARED.     .     138 

Xm.  IN    WHICH    TYSON    SUPS    WITH    SOME 

ARABS.         .         .                 .        .       152 
XTV.  AN  AMATEUR  DETECTIVE.      .         .         .163 
XV.  IN  WHICH  PEWSTER  READS  AN  ADVER 
TISEMENT 171 

XVI.  IN  WHICH  A  DIFFICULTY  is  REMOVED.  175 

XVII.  IN  WHICH  TYSON  VISITS  THE  BISHOP.       181 

XVIII.  A  LETTER  FROM  NONA.         .         .         .  202 

XIX.  IN  WHICH  JULIAN  RETURNS.       .      .". .      212 

XX.  LADY  WRINGCLIFF  AND  HER  MAID.        .  222 

XXI.  IN  A  DRUIDICAL  CIRCLE.         .         .       233 

XXII.  IN  WHICH  TYSON  is  STUNNED.        .    '     .  246 

XXIII.  IN    WHICH     THERE     ARE    GATHERING 

CLOUDS.  262 


Contents 


XXIV.  IN  WHICH  TYSON  LEAVES  CULVERCOMBE.  270 
XXV.  IN  WHICH  Two  HEARTS  ARE  WRUNG.       281 

XXVI.  LEAVES  THE  READER  TO  DECIDE 
WHETHER  THIS  STORY  ENDS  HAPPILY 
OB  NOT.  ...  .291 


vi 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

Chapter  /.      The   Stranger  who   Lost 
his  IVay 


y  •  -^YSON  was  going  home.  Not  until  he 
had  reached  middle-age,  as  he  regarded 
that  variable  period — he  was  thirty — had 
the  chance  come  to  him.  Years  earlier 
he  had  landed  in  the  States,  a  boy,  friend 
less  and  penniless,  but  hopeful,  with  a  head 
full  of  dreams,  and  plenty  of  room  in  a  small  old- 
fashioned  carpet-bag  for  all  his  material  belongings. 
He  could  darn  his  own  socks  in  those  days,  and  ap 
ply,  not  without  skill,  a  patch,  when  needed,  to  the 
rough  tweeds  that  were  consecrated  to  "Sunday 
bests"  and  holidays,  or  to  the  corduroys  and  as 
sorted  things  that  served  him  for  week-days. 

Now  he  was  going  home,  and  the  smile  which 
flickered  across  his  face  had  its  source  in  a  gratified 
though  almost  incredulous  recognition  of  the  amaz 
ing  change  that  had  taken  place  in  his  fortunes  since 
that  far-off  time  when,  disembarking  from  the  steamer 
in  New  York,  he  had  made  his  way  to  Chicago. 

It  all  came  back  to  him  and  he  chuckled  to  himself 
as  he  recalled  some  of  the  incidents  of  that  first  jour 
ney  through  what  to  him  were  the  wilds ;  even  such 
trifles  as  the  trepidation  with  which  he  discovered 
that  breakfast,  dinner,  or  supper  at  the  railway  eat 
ing-houses  cost  a  dollar,  and  how,  after  once  having  un 
wittingly  been  led  into  an  extravagance  so  far  beyond 
his  means,  he  had  stuffed  his  carpet-bag  with  apples 

A  1 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


and  dough-nuts,  and  thereafter  had  supplied  his  rave 
nous  boyish  appetite  with  nothing  more  substantial. 
He  recalled  also  how  he  had  travelled  over  part  of 
the  route  on  the  wrong  train,  and  how  the  pompous, 
bullying,  puffed-up  conductor  had  threatened  to  pat 
him  off,  until  some  of  the  passengers  had  come  to  his 
defence  and  rescue,  and  that  it  was  not  his  own  stu 
pidity  after  all,  but  all  the  fault  of  the  railway  people 
of  Erie.  Then  he  was  reminded  of  that  friendly 
Calif ornian  who  was  so  kind  to  him,  giving  him  fruit, 
lending  him  papers,  explaining  things  to  him,  and 
trying  to  make  him  comfortable  on  tne  narrow  seat 
which  they  shared  on  the  long  and  dusty  journey — 
the  shaggy,  toil-worn,  ponderous  man  who,  unlike  the 
other  passengers,  found  nothing  laughable  in  the  sur 
mises  and  questions  and  blunders  of  this  poor  little 
new-comer  in  a  strange  land. 

"  I  'd  like  to  get  hold  of  that  old  cuss,"  thought 
Tyson;  "he  was  a  white  man.  Why,  in  the  name 
of  God,  are  n't  people  kinder  to  boys  ?  Nobody 's  so 
grateful  as  a  boy  you  've  been  kind  to ;  he  's  just 
as  grateful  as  a  dog." 

Tyson  chuckled  again.  He  was  in  the  real  "West 
now,  but  he  was  going  home.  The  thought  seemed 
to  flow  through  him  like  a  strain  of  music,  to  weave 
itself  into  a  rapturous  maze,  losing  itself  momentarily 
in  intricate  but  ever-pleasing  byways,  but  always  com 
ing  back  in  a  dancing  measure  to  reiterate  itself 
in  its  initial  charm. 

Before  his  eyes  now  were  the  grey  and  yellow 
plains,  buttressed  by  flat-topped  treeless  bluffs,  with 
sheer  escarpments — the  mesas  of  the  southwest, 
painted  by  Nature's  hand  with  ribbons  of  violet, 
crimson  and  yellow.  Carved  and  detached  by 

2 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


erosion,  a  pinnacle  stood  out  here  and  there  on  the 
promontories  like  a  campanile,  or  the  tower  of  a 
mosque.  All  the  colour  was  oriental,  and  with  the 
slant  of  the  sun  it  was  deepening  and  rivalling  the 
glory  of  the  sky.  It  was  an  enchanted  land  he  gazed 
upon,  glowing  and  translucent  like  the  colours  in  the 
spectra  of  the  stars. 

His  legs  hung  over  a  wall  of  sun-dried  brick  or 
adobe,  and  around  him  and  above  him  rose  the  for 
tress-like  mass  of  the  Indian  pueblo,  the  exterior  walls 
slit  with  occasional  unglazed  peep-holes,  but  without 
other  apertures.  The  great  ladders  for  exit  and  en 
trance  bristled  against  and  criss-crossed  the  tiers  of 
archaic  dwellings.  On  the  flat  roofs  a  few  Indian  wo 
men  in  loose  striped  gowns  were  painting  basins, 
ewers  and  pots  of  native  pottery.  Down  by  the  river 
the  men  and  boys,  dressed  in  white  cotton  tunics  and 
drawers,  and  with  scarfs  knotted  across  their  brows, 
were  tilling  the  fields  where  later  in  the  season  there 
would  be  crops  of  wheat,  maize  and  fruit. 

Five  miles  away  a  group  of  buildings  strangely  out 
of  keeping  with  their  surroundings — the  derricks  of 
a  mine  and  the  sheds  of  an  ore-mill,  and  several  en 
gine  houses — could  be  discovered  and  identified  by 
one  who  knew  that  they  were  there,  though  a 
stranger  not  expecting  them  would  have  confused 
them  with  other  fantastic  features  of  the  weird  land 
scape. 

Over  there  was  the  "  Queen  of  Sheba,"  where  Ty 
son  lived,  and  where  he  had  made  his  pile — Tyson 
and  the  Senator,  and  a  few  of  their  friends.  There 
was  not  any  other  such  mine  as  the  "  Queen  "  in  all 
that  region. 

Farther  to  the  southeast  Manana  Peak  jutted  out 

3 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


of  the  desert  like  a  pinnacle  of  amethyst  in  a  still 
black  pool  spotted  with  islets  of  green.  Manaiia  was 
an  extinct  volcano,  and  the  Stygian  lake  around  it 
was  a  flood  of  crusted  lava  that  some  centuries  ear 
lier  had  rolled  down  from  its  apex. 

But  though  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  them,  Tyson 
was  not  taking  note  of  what  to  him  were  common 
places,  and  the  dreamy  smile  in  his  face  came  from 
an  inner  vision  of  things  far  away — of  hawthorn 
hedges  and  thatched  cottages;  of  cool  and  silent 
streams  bordered  by  willows;  of  wide-spreading 
beeches ;  of  poppies  in  the  wheat  j  of  roses  and  honey 
suckle  mantling  porches  and  gables ;  of  golden 
showers  of  laburnum  mixing  with  white  and  red 
May  blossoms,  of  a  delectable  land  of  silvery  clouds 
and  soft  voices  and  gentle  manners — a  land  whose 
every  squire  was  a  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  every  vicar 
a  Dr.  Primrose,  and  every  mansion  a  Bracebridge 
Hall.  Ah  !  This  Arcadia,  this  Paradise,  this  Eng 
land,  what  fragrance  and  music  the  vision  of  it 
brought  him ! 

As  he  sat  there  Manaiia  lost  its  transparency  and 
grew  opaque  and  darkly  purple  and  the  light  faded 
from  crimson  to  orange  and  olive  in  the  west. 

It  was  time  to  return  to  Sheba,  and  Tyson  went 
down  the  ladder,  looking,  as  he  passed,  into  the 
chamber  of  the  pueblo  where  the  old  governor,  hud 
dled  over  a  small  fire,  puffed  slowly  at  his  corn-husk 
cigarette. 

"  So  you  leave  Laguna  soon,  little  brother  ? "  asked 
the  old  Indian. 

"  Yery  soon." 

"  You  go  to  Chicago,  little  brother  ? " 

"No." 

4 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"Was—  in—  tona  «" 

"  Farther  than  "Washington,  padre, — over  the  great 
waters — over  the  waters  that  are  salt  and  deep,  the 
waters  that  nurse  the  sun  when  it  is  born,  and  bury  it 
when  it  dies." 

"  And  she  goes  with  you  on  your  long  journey  to 
see  the  sun  where  it  is  born  ?  " 

Tyson  paused  before  replying  to  this  question, 
which  took:  him  by  surprise,  and  went  further  than 
he  cared  for. 

"  No,"  he  said,  and  the  "  no  "  was  quite  decisive. 
"I  go  alone." 

He  sprang  into  his  high-peaked  Mexican  saddle 
and  trotted  off  along  the  trail  to  Sheba.  So  blue  was 
the  night  that  it  was  like  a  bowl  of  lapis  lazuli  with 
stars  of  gold  and  silver  inlayed  upon  it.  The  stars 
were  near  and  bright  and  Tyson  hummed — 

'*  The  oak  and  the  ash  and  the  bonnie  ivy  tree, 
They  flourish  at  home  in  my  ain  countree." 

Part  of  his  way  was  across  the  sandy  plain  and 
through  the  thicket  of  gnarled  and  knotted  sage 
brush  which  pricked  the  air  with  its  acrid  pungence. 
Then  as  he  skirted  the  spurs  of  Manaiia  the  path  led 
through  stunted  pines  and  mesquit,  and  there  were 
outcroppings  of  the  lava  which  made  many  curves 
necessary.  He  walked  his  horse  here,  and  had  to  be 
cautious. 

Voices  ahead  then  caught  his  ear,  sounding  like 
pebbles  dropped  into  a  pool,  and  he  pulled  up  abruptly 
to  listen.  They  were  not  the  voices  of  Indians,  not 
the  voices  of  miners  or  ranchmen,  not  voices  of  any 
kind  that  could  be  heard  without  surprise  on  the 

5 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


trail  at  this  hour  of  the  night.  He  was  sure  of  that. 
One  was  a  woman's  in  some  distress  and  confusion, 
the  other  a  man's  weak,  faint  and  apologetic. 

Advancing  a  few  paces,  Tyson's  quick  ear  soon 
identified  the  woman's,  but  the  man's  remained 
strange  to  him. 

"  Nona,  is  that  you ? "   he  cried. 

"  Sounds  like  me,  does  n't  it?" 

"  What  on  earth  are  you  doing  here,  Nona  ? " 

"  Come  on  and  see,  instead  of  standing  there.  Get 
off,  and  come  and  help  me  get  him  home." 

"  Get  him  home  ?     Who  is  it  ? " 

"  Just  a  man  I  guess." 

"  A  very  poor  specimen,  I'm  afraid,"  the  stranger 
interposed  feebly. 

"Just  my  luck  with  men,"  said  Nona,  and  she 
laughed  again. 

Tyson  could  now  dimly  see  the  stranger,  propped 
against  a  boulder,  with  Nona  bending  over  him.  She 
had  dismounted  from  her  horse  and  slung  the  reins 
over  her  elbow. 

"  Missed  the  trail  and  got  lost  on  the  lava,"  she  ex 
plained.  "  I  thought  it  was  good-by,  John,  when  I 
found  him.  Jim,  do  n't  stand  there  like  a  fool,  and 
do  n't  say  another  word  to  me  about  Amazons.  I  'm 
not  in  it.  I  've  got  to  go  into  training.  I  've  been 
trying  to  boost  him  into  my  saddle  for  the  last  half- 
hour,  and  could  n't  for  the  life  of  me.  Guess  he 's 
pretty  bad.  Can  you  see  him  ?  He 's  a  tenderfoot, 


sure." 


"  I  lost  my  horse  two  days  ago,"  the  stranger  ex 
plained.  "  His  hoofs  were  worn  to  the  bone.  I  fancy 
I  must  have  dropped  just  where  I  am  now.  A  close 
call  is  the  word,  is  n't  it  ?  I  am  sorry  to  give  you 

6 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


so  much  trouble,  really — forgive  me,  won't  you? 
Surely  I  'm  not  so  much  used  up  as  this  young  lady 
seems  to  think.  I  can  stand,  and — and — walk  to 
some  place  of  shelter.  Really  I  am  ashamed  of 
myself" 

The  stranger  lifted  himself  by  his  elbows  and  tot 
tered  to  his  feet,  but  would  have  fallen  had  not 
Tyson  caught  him.  His  voice  was  not  the  voice 
Tyson  had  expected ;  it  sounded  like  an  echo  of  his 
dream. 

"  English  ? "  he  inquired. 

"  Yes,  English." 

Tyson  lifted  him  up  and  seated  him  in  his  own 
saddle  and  started  him  on  the  trail  towards  Sheba, 
following  afoot  by  the  side  of  the  girl,  who  had  re 
mounted. 

It  was  not  quite  dark,  and  though  they  were 
invisible  to  the  stranger,  Nona  and  Tyson  could 
vaguely  discern  each  other. 

"  Is  there  a  tavern  at  the  mines  ? "  the  stranger 
asked  wearily. 

"  A  kind  of  tavern,  but  I  do  n't  recommend  it," 
Tyson  answered.  "  We  have  n't  got  any  l  Roses  and 
Crowns '  or  <  Barley  Mows,'  or  '  Wheatsheafs '  out 
here,  you  know.  But  the  fellow  that  keeps  this  place 
is  an  Englishman,  and  he  gives  it  a  name.  He  calls 
it4  The  Square  Meal.'" 

"  *  The  Square  Meal '  will  do  for  me.  That 's  an 
excellent  name.  I  fancy  you  have  been  in  England 
from  your  reference  to  the  inns  ? " 

"  Oh  yes,  I  've  been  there,"  said  Tyson,  with  unction 
and  a  conscious  inflation,  as  though  confessing  to  an 
edifying  and  notable  distinction. 

"  Oh  yes,  he 's  been  in  England,"  Nona  interposed, 

7 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


mimicking  Tyson's  voice  and  emphasising  a  grimace 
with  a  pinch  of  his  arm. 

"  And  what  part  might  you  come  from  ?  "  Tyson 
continued. 

"  England  is  such  a  little  place.  To  say  England, 
is  n't  that  enough  ?  " 

"  That 's  a  large  order.     What  does  it  mean  ? " 

Tyson  did  not  want  trifling  or  evasion. 

"  A  vagabond,"  murmured  the  stranger. 

"  Well,  I  'm  a  Lancashire  man  myself,"  Tyson  de 
clared,  and  thereupon  Nona  murmured  secretly, 
"  God  save  the  Queen  !  " 

"  Ah,  I  thought  I  recognized  the  Lancashire  burr. 
I  like  it ;  it  has  a  good  honest  sound.  But  I  am  not 
answering  your  question.  I  too  am  a  Lancashire 
man  by  birth.  Y  ou  have  been  to  the  Lakes  ? " 

"  Long  ago." 

"  You  remember  Langdale  Hall  ? " 

"  Why,  I  've  ~been  there  !  When  I  was  a  little  lad 
I  went  there  on  a  school  treat — to  Lord  Langdale's 
place.  And  a  fine  place  it  is,  and  no  mistake !  So 
you  live  near  Langdale,  do  you  ?  It 's  a  grand  neigh 
bourhood." 

"  Not  near  Langdale.    At  Langdale." 

"At  the  Hall?'7 

"  Yes." 

"Well,  well!" 

Tyson's  imagination  was  stirred,  and  he  nudged 
Nona.  The  manner  of  the  stranger  was  very  gentle, 
his  voice  musical.  What  could  he  be  doing  at  Lang- 
dale  Hall  ?  He  could  not  be  a  servant.  He  was  a 
gentleman,  plainly — a  member  of  the  family,  perhaps, 
or,  it  might  be,  Lord  Langdale's  secretary.  Lords 
were  screened  divinities  to  Tyson  and  apart  from 

8 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


common  mortals,  but  the  only  specimen  he  could  re 
member  having  seen  had  been  at  a  bazaar  for  a  church 
mission  in  a  provincial  town,  when  even  the  mayor 
and  the  mayoress  and  all  the  local  bigwigs  had  bowed 
to  it  while  the  crowd  gaped  and  cheered. 

Tyson's  interest  grew.  Here  was  a  new  acquaint 
ance  to  whom  nobility  was  no  mystery,  though  it 
was  not  to  be  thought  that  in  its  own  environment 
it  was  less  sacred,  or  less  esoteric,  or  less  aloof  than 
he  conceived  it  to  be  from  what  he  had  read  of  it  and 
seen  of  it  at  the  bazaar. 

"  You  '11  know  Lord  Langdale,  then,  if  you  live  at 
the  Hall  ? "  he  inquired. 

"  Lord  Langdale  is  my  brother.  My  name  is 
Julian  Glynne." 

Tyson  nudged  Nona  again,  and  whispered,  "  What 
do  you  think  of  that  ? " 

And  then  summoning  to  his  memory  the  many 
gables  of  Langdale  Hall  standing  out  against  the 
seal-brown  crags,  —  the  bracken,  the  furze  and 
the  ash-trees  and  birches  of  the  hills  that  roll  down 
to  Windermere, —  Tyson  thought  some  formality 
would  be  appropriate. 

"  Glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Glynne,"  he  said,  and 
turning  to  Nona,  "Miss  Plant,  allow  me  to  introduce 
Mr.  Glynne.  My  name  's  Tyson — James  Tyson." 

They  caught  a  little  laugh  from  their  new  acquaint 
ance  as  Nona  was  nodding  her  head  ceremoniously. 

"  Are  you  a  Count  ? "  she  asked. 

"  There  are  no  Counts  in  England,  Nona,"  Tyson 
protested,  in  a  whisper. 

"Well,  Earl  then.  When  I  was  at  school  at 
'Frisco  one  of  the  girls  ran  away  with  a  Count,  and 
he  was  no  good." 

9 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Not  even  <  Earl,'  Miss  Plant,"  said  Glynne.  "  I  've 
not  a  title  of  any  kind,  not  a  shred  of  distinction." 

"  Not  even  an  '  honourable '  ?  Father 's  an  *  hon 
ourable.'" 

"  Your  father  ranks  higher  than  I  do." 

"  You  're  an  aristocrat,  anyway." 

"  By  birth,  perhaps,  but  what  one  is  by  birth  is 
often  just  that  which  one  would  rather  not  be.  By 
birth !  Ah,  birth  is  the  source  of  many  penalties  of 
life.  To  say  that  a  man  is  this  or  that  by  birth  is  to 
confess  to  his  misfortune.  I  am  a  nobody,  Miss 
Plant.  But  I  am  tiring  you  with  all  this  talk." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  but  you  are  tiring  yourself,  old 
man,"  said  Tyson,  surprising  himself  with  his  own 
familiarity. 

"He's  all  right,"  he  whispered  reassuringly  to 
Nona.  "  You  do  n't  expect  him  to  blow  about  him 
self  and  his  family,  do  you  ?  That  is  n't  their  way." 

The  three  plodded  on  in  silence.  Neither  of  the 
men  had  fully  seen  the  other,  and  they  had  been  talk 
ing  with  a  wall  of  darkness  between  them,  which 
surmise  and  conjecture  had  not  yet  scaled.  There 
had  been  enough  twilight  for  Nona  to  see  that  Glynne 
was  young  and  for  him  to  discover  in  her  some  signs 
of  beauty,  but  the  impression  on  both  sides  was  in 
distinct. 

Presently  the  trail  emerged  on  the  slope  of  a  hill, 
and  Sheba  twinkled  before  them,  while  far  off  in  the 
other  direction  a  pale  lamp  or  two  gleamed  like  timid 
eyes  from  the  ancient  pueblo. 

Nona  and  Tyson  whispered  together. 

"  Would  the  Senator  mind  ? " 

"  Well,  Jim,  I  thought  you  knew  father  well  enough 
not  to  ask  that." 

10 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

"  But  you  ? " 

"I  guess  I  'm  a  white  man,"  she  declared,  and  then 
addressing  Glynne,  "  Here  we  are.  Jim  will  help 
you  out  of  your  saddle,  and  I'll  just  run  in  and  fix 
things  for  you." 

«  Senator  Plant's  house,"  Tyson  explained.  "  This 
is  to  be  your  inn.  Nona — Miss  Plant — insists  on  it. 
Let 's  give  it  a  name,  eh  ?  like  old  England.  What 
do  you  say?  'The  Horn  of  Plenty,' or  'The  Wheel 
of  Fortune?'  Both  are  good  old-fashioned  names, 
anyway  ;  either  will  fit." 

"  If  it  must  have  a  name,"  said  Julian,  with  that 
ever-ready  laugh  of  his,  though  now  it  was  nearly  in 
audible,  "let  us  call  it  after  that  nice  girl,  <  T  he  Angel.' " 

He  had  hardly  spoken  when  he  slipped  from  his 
saddle  in  a  swoon,  and  Tyson  called  for  help  to  carry 
him  into  the  house. 

The  house  was  new  and  luxurious,  blending  some 
of  the  features  of  a  Mexican  mission  with  those  of 
the  architecture  known  as  "  Colonial."  The  entrance 
hall  made  a  spacious  sitting-room,  modern  in  all  its 
appurtenances.  Electric  lamps  starred  its  canary 
walls  and  white  woodwork,  and  a  fire  of  logs  blazed 
and  crackled  cheerfully  in  a  huge  hooded  fire-place. 

Here  Nona  and  T}^son  met  again  in  half  an  hour, 
she  running  up  to  him  and  patting  his  cheeks,  a  de 
monstration  to  which  he  yielded  without  surprise  and 
without  elation. 

There  was  a  whimsical  kindly  smile  in  his  honest 
face,  and  a  twinkle  in  his  blue-grey  eyes.  Better- 
looking  men  might  have  been  less  impassive  than 
this  had  it  been  their  privilege  to  look  through  Nona's 
palms  down  the  white  rounded  arm  to  her  generous 
figure,  supple  as  a  young  panther's,  and  into  her  fair 

11 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


oval  face,  with  its  full  lips  and  its  brown  eyes,  which, 
floating  under  long  silky  lashes,  expressed  in  change 
ful  glances  both  roguery  and  demureness,  mischief 
and  seriousness.  She  was  as  brown  as  a  gypsy,  but 
her  complexion  was  flawless  and  rosy.  The  effect  of 
her  presence  was  of  amiability  and  exuberant  youth- 
fulness,  restrained  only  in  case  of  the  imperative  by 
unwelcome  and  tardy  gravity. 

She  sighed  and  sat  down  in  an  arm-chair  at  one 
side  of  the  fire-place,  smoothing  the  rustling  silk  gown 
she  now  wore,  and  the  flames  of  the  pine  logs  turned 
into  gold  all  the  loose  strands  of  her  voluminous 
bronze  hair  as  it  rolled  up  from  her  forehead  like  a 
helmet. 

"  How  is  he  ? "  she  asked. 

"Played  out;  that's  all.  He'll  be  all  right  in  a 
day  or  two." 

"  Jim,  do  you  think  he 's  a  fake  ? " 

Tyson  scowled.  "  I  wish  you  would  n't  give  us 
slang  all  the  time,  Nona." 

"  Do  n't  you  use  slang,  too?  " 

"  That  is  n't  it.     You  know  that  well  enough." 

"  You  never  objected  before.  What 's  the  matter 
with  you  ?  What 's  the  matter  with  slang  anyway  ? 
Have  n't  you  said  it  was  a  sort  of  shorthand  of 
speech?"  ' 

They  had  "matched"  slang  and  competed  with 
each  other  in  slang  so  often  that  his  protest  puzzled 
her. 

"Ah,  I  see  now,"  she  exclaimed,  with  knitted 
brows;  "it's  that  Englishman  you're  thinking  of. 
Your  lord !  I  'm  not  good  enough  for  him !  Perhaps 
you  are  ashamed  of  me." 

Tyson  was  a  little  ashamed  of  himself,  for  he  had 

12 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


detected  himself  surmising  with  some  dubiety  how 
good  an  impression  his  old  friend  would  make  on  his 
new  one.  He  was  not  going  to  let  her  think  he  could 
be  guilty  of  apostasy,  however. 

"  How  unfair  you  are,  Nona ! "  he  complained. 
"  Ashamed  of  you !  How  can  you  say  a  thing  like 
that!" 

Her  anger  passed,  and  left  her  thoughtful  and  pen 
itent.  "I  understand  what  you  mean,  Jim :  it  is  n't 
ladylike.  I  know  I  'm  a  torn-boy  and  a  hoyden,  but 
what  chances  have  I  had  out  here  at  the  mines,  and 
only  a  visit  to  Chicago  or  Denver  now  and  then? 
Wait  until  I  get  to  Washington.  Then  you'll  see 
how  I  '11  pick  up  things.  I  've  got  to  behave  myself, 
that 's  a  fact ;  and  when  you  get  back  from  England 
I  '11  be  so  elegant  you  wont  know  me." 

"  I  do  n't  want  you  to  change,  Nona,  only — " 
"  Yes.  I  wonder  what  he  did  think  of  me.  I  sup 
pose  that  when  I  found  him  I  ought  to  have  just  left 
him  where  he  was,  and  just  told  them  here,  Chidsey 
or  John,  that  somebody  was  lying  out  there  in  the 
dark.  That  would  have  been  proper.  But  he  was 
so  pale  I  thought  he  was  dying,  and  I  could  n't  leave 
a  fellow  like  that.  You  would  n't,  would  you  ?  Has 
the  poor  cuss  got  everything  he  wants  ? " 

"  Everything.     Nona,  look  here ;  you  're  a  brick." 
"I'm  dead  tired,  Jim;  that's  all,"  she  sighed. 


13 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  II.     An  Exchange  of  Confi 
dences    : 


SEYEKAL  days  later  when  Julian  Glynne 
arose  to  dress  he  had  recovered  from  his 
exhaustion,  though  he  still  limped,  and 
when  he  looked  out  of  his  chamber  win 
dows,  it  was  on  surroundings  that  had  grown 
in  a  measure  familiar  to  him  through  the 

flimpses  he  had  taken  of  them  in  the  restlessness  of 
is  confinement. 

His  room  was  like  that  of  any  modern  American 
country  house,  cool,  airy,  spacious  and  tasteful,  with 
creamy  white  woodwork,  oak  flooring,  oriental  rugs, 
yellow  chrysanthemums  in  chintz  on  the  walls, 
chairs  and  sofas,  and  a  generous  fire-place  set  in  a 
mantel  of  fluted  pillars  and  embossed  urns  and 
wreaths. 

Out  of  doors,  however,  the  disordered  colour  of  the 
phenomenal  landscape  made  all  this  taste  and  luxury 
seem  illusory  and  incredible.  The  suggestion  was 
of  paint — of  a  landscape  deluged  with  paint  in 
strange  combinations,  with  yellow  ochre  dominant. 
The  soil  of  the  levels  and  the  rocks  of  the  mesas  alike 
looked  like  pigments — yellow  pigments  and  red  pig- 

14 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


inents,  streaked  with  the  olive  of  the  dwarf  pines  and 
cedars,  and  the  grey  of  the  misty  little  sage  brush. 
Even  the  sky  was  like  a  hard  lacquered  surface  of 
hyacinthine  blue,  and  neither  haze  nor  cloud  floated 
across  it  to  mitigate  the  vitreous  glare. 

Tyson  had  been  devoted  to  the  invalid,  and  in 
constant  attendance  upon  him,  seeing  after  his  wants 
with  eager  solicitude,  and  talking  with  him  much  of 
the  time. 

Never  before  had  Tyson  known  so  fascinating  a 
person,  and  the  attraction  seemed  to  be  mutual. 
The  intimacy  retraced  in  its  fervour  and  loquacity 
many  vanquished  years  and  seemed  to  kindle  in  his 
newly  found  friend  a  warmth  responsive  to  his  own, 
and  apparently  not  less  ardent. 

It  was  a  long  story  Glynne  told  of  circumstances 
which  had  led  to  his  misadventure  on  the  lava  beds 
under  Manaiia. 

He  propped  himself  up  with  cushions  in  a  little 
balconied  window,  and  there  stretched  himself  in 
Tyson's  dressing-gown  and  smoked  Tyson's  ciga 
rettes.  Tyson  looked  at  him  with  admiration,  but 
without  any  such  scrupulous  analysis  of  detail  as  a 
feminine  observer  would  have  used  to  confirm  a 
general  impression. 

All  that  Tyson  catalogued  from  his  scrutiny  was 
as  laconic  as  a  way-bill,  or  the  report  of  an  orderly 
in  a  public  institution. 

Glynne  was  young  and  good-looking  and  a  good 
fellow  ;  that  was  all,  and  if  Tyson  had  been  asked 
for  further  particulars,  "  unmistakably  a  gentleman  " 
would  have  seemed  to  him  to  complete  the  picture 
and  to  suffice  for  any  reasonable  curiosity. 

Glynne's  eyes  were  blue— as  blue  as  the  blue  of 
15 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

the  hyacinthine  sky — but  Tyson  did  not  know  it. 
Glynne's  hair  was  almost  yellow,  close  and  wavy — 
of  the  kind  that  seems  to  never  grow  too  long — but 
it  might  have  been  sparse,  or  anything  but  red  or 
white,  for  all  that  Tyson  observed.  Glynne's  com 
plexion  was  fair  and  florid,  and  his  features  were 
regular,  though  his  mouth  was  too  much  like  a 
woman's ;  but  Tyson  on  oath  could  not  have  de 
scribed  them. 

Not  that  Tyson  was  unobservant,  or  lacking  in 
perspicuity,  in  other  directions,  but  he  had  the  av 
erage  man's  incapacity  for  that  swift  and  comprehen 
sive  panorama  of  the  person  in  which  women  are 
adepts. 

Briefly,  Glynne  was  of  the  crisp  military  English 
type,  tall,  lithe,  supple,  and  spare  in  body.  His  flexi 
ble  grace  and  easy  laugh  seemed  to  lubricate  every 
halting  circumstance  and  embarrassing  moment. 
Tyson  himself  was  a  similar  figure,  slender  but  mus 
cular,  though  without  any  of  the  cultivated  elegance 
of  manner  and  pliant  grace  which  came  into  play  in 
all  his  companion's  gestures  and  movements. 

"  You  must  understand,"  said  Glynne,  "  that  I  am 
as  poor  as  a  church  mouse.  No,  not  relatively,  but 
actually  poor." 

"  The  brother  of  Lord  Langdale  ? " 

"  Yes,  and  Lord  Langdale  is  poor  too. — Ah !  how  I 
hate  poverty.  I  know  all  the  ingredients  of  that 
stew — fear,  anxiety,  deceit — an  interrogation  point 
before  and  behind  every  pleasure ! " 

"  And  how  many  thousands  a  year  do  you  call 
poverty  ?  "  Tyson  asked,  wrinkling  his  face. 

"  Not  thousands  at  all.  A  very  few  hundreds, 
and  no  certainty  as  to  those." 

16 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  That 's  not  much,  to  be  sure,  for  a  man  in  society, 
as  you  've  got  to  be,  of  course,"  Tyson  admitted. 
"  But  you  must  have  expectations  ? "' 

"  No  Jew  has  ever  been  sanguine  about  them.  I 
am  Lord  Langdale's  only  brother,  and  his  heir,  but 
he  is  just  five  years  older  than  I  am,  and  is  about  to 
be  married.  I  shall  inevitably  disappear  in  a  nephew 
whose  small  fat  hands  will  pluck  all  my  modest  ex 
pectations  to  pieces  and  scatter  them  to  the  winds. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  fellow,"  Glynne  sighed,  "  you  must 
let  me  have  my  little  fling  at  Poverty — the  har 
ridan,  the  long-fingered,  pinching  witch.  She  is  the 
mother  of  all  evil. 

"  I  guess  you  're  right  about  that, "  said  Tyson. 
"  But  what  brought  you  here  \ " 

Glynne  reflected  before  he  replied.  "  I  met  a  man 
from  this  very  neighbourhood  in  the  city — in  Lon 
don.  He  had  a  claim  to  a  mine  out  here,  and  as  he 
was  hard  up  he  sold  it  to  me  at,  as  he  said,  a  great 
bargain.  I  did  n't  quite  believe  in  him,  but  I  like 
dreams  and  adventures." 

Tyson  shook  his  head  in  the  parental  way  in  which 
reproof  and  pity  mingle. 

"Stuck  you,  did  he?" 

"  Apparently." 

"  His  name  was  Pewster  ? "  guessed  Tyson. 

"  Yes,  that 's  it.     I  thought  you  might  know  him." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  Pewster — we  all  know  Pewster," 
Tyson  drawled.  "  Look  here ! " 

He  led  Glynne  to  another  window,  and  both  of 
them  blinked  in  the  glare  of  the  view.  "  You  see 
those  shafts  over  there,  just  under  the  saddle  of  the 
hill  ?  That 's  the  mine  that  Pewster  claims.  He  'd 
been  working  on  the  same  clue  that  I  had — that 's 
B  17 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


true  enough — but  I  got  here  before  him.  He  's  been 
bothering  us  ever  since.  When  did  you  see  him 
last?" 

"  I  've  not  seen  him  for  years.  I  've  been  away  in 
Egypt  and  India  with  my  regiment,  you  know." 

"In  the  army,  eh?" 

"  I  was.    I  'm  out  of  it  now." 

"  You ' ve  heard  of  him,  of  course  ? "  Tyson  asked, 
coming  back  to  Pewster. 

"No." 

"  Well,  I  understand  he 's  wearing  purple  and  fine 
linen  now.  He 's  been  successful  in  some  schemes, 
and  Mike  Dougherty  's  got  hold  of  him.  When  he 
left  this  place  he  was  wearing  tar  and  feathers.  He 
was  everything  that's  bad.  The  boys  wanted  to 
lynch  him,  but  I  got  them  to  let  the  low-down  cuss 
off  with  his  life.  I  do  n't  know  why  I  did  that  either. 
It 's  no  good  being  soft-hearted  with  reptiles.  He 's 
behind  Dougherty  in  all  the  litigation  we're  having 
now." 

They  smoked  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then 
Tyson  asked,  "Where  are  your  papers — those  he 
sold  you  ? " 

"  They  were  in  one  of  my  saddle-bags  when  I  lost 
my  horse." 

"  Well,  they  were  n  't  worth  much  any  way,"  said 
Tyson,  blowing  a  cloud  and  watching  it  float  upward. 

"  Exactly  what  I  suspected,"  murmured  Glynne, 
with  easy  resignation.  "  And  now  some  more  about 
yourself.  Your  story — your  own  story — interests 
me.  What  adventures  you  must  have  had ! " 

"  Oh,  I  do  n't  know,"  Tyson  replied  awkwardly. 
"  I  've  been  lucky,  that 's  all.  I  left  England  when  I 
was  fourteen  years  old  to  seek  my  fortune,  and  I 

18 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


had  n't  any  doubt  that  there  was  a  fortune  somewhere 
for  me.  Father  dead,  mother  dead — one  of  those 
families  that  drop  out  and  disappear  all  of  a  sudden, 
you  know.  I  suppose  I  had  some  relations  who 
might  have  looked  out  for  me,  but  they  did  n't,  and 
they  did  n't  even  do  it  for  the  only  other  child  of  my 

parents,  a  little  girl,  who  was  taken  to  the to  an 

institution.  I  've  been  trying  to  find  that  child  for 
years,  but  have  n't  been  able  to  do  it.  I  was  always 
fond  of  her;  such  a  pretty  and  intelligent  little 
thing,  she  was,  and  she  had  been  left  to  me  by  my 
mother,  who  said  with  her  last  breath,  *  Look  out  for 
your  sister,  Jim.'  My  father  ? — no  matter,  but  drink 
was  at  the  bottom  of  it. 

"The  matron  of  the  institution  never  paid  any 
attention  to  my  letters,  and  though  I  have  since 
employed  some  lawyers  to  look  into  the  matter, 
they  have  not  been  able — so  they  say — to  get  any 
satisfactory  information.  Now  I  am  going  to  Eng 
land  myself,  and  I  intend  to  find  her,  and  if  I  find 
her  there  '11  be  nothing  too  good  for  her.  Some 
times  I  have  convictions  that  I  can't  account  for — 
intuitions,  if  you  prefer— and  they  seldom  fail 
me." 

"  Possibly  I  might  be  of  some  service,"  Glynne 
suggested. 

Tyson  looked  over  to  him  eagerly.  "I  suppose 
there  are  <  pulls '  over  there  as  well  as  here." 

"  My  dear  boy,  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  we 
have  <  pulls '  in  England,  though  we  do  n't  call  them 
by  that  name.  But  tell  me  more,  won't  you  ?  You 
won't  think  me  indelicate  in  pressing  you  ?  " 

"  Well,"  Tyson  went  on,  "  I  came  to  America,  and 
did  anything  that  came  to  hand — anything !  I  ped- 

19 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


died  chromos  from  door  to  door ;  worked  in  a  second 
hand  bookstore  (that  I  liked,  for  I  've  always  been 
fond  of  books) ;  made  abstracts  of  deeds  and  mort 
gages  for  a  lawyer,  or  a  conveyancer,  as  you  'd  call 
him ;  put  on  the  uniform  of  a  district  messenger ; 
shifted  about  from  town  to  town." 

He  laughed  in  his  peculiar  way.  His  voice  was 
deep  and  slow,  and  his  laugh  rumbled  up  like  a  re 
verberation  from  a  cellar. 

"  Then  I  came  out  West.  Another  job  turned  up 
in  the  office  of  a  mining  engineer,  and  there  I  stuck 
for  two  years.  That  was  the  making  of  me.  I 
worked  from  eight  to  six  at  the  office,  attended  a 
technical  school  in  the  evening,  and  went  on  with 
my  studies  until  I  usually  fell  asleep  in  my  clothes 
somewhere  about  dawn.  Somehow  I  saved  three  or 
four  hundred  dollars,  and  I  started  out  as  a  prospector 
in  this  country.  It 's  too  long  a  story  how  I  first 
heard  of  the  lost  mine — we  '11  put  it  off  till  another 
time — but  with  a  small  pack  and  a  pick-axe  on  a 
"burro — a  donkey — a  frying-pan,  a  bit  of  salt  pork 
and  a  bag  of  flour,  I  camped  out  until  I  did  find  it. 
And  then  I  went  to  sleep,  all  played  out. 

"  You  see  that  clump  of  mesquit  bushes  through 
the  window  ?  "  he  continued  pointing.  "  There 's  a 
spring  there,  and  a  creek.  That 's  the  place." 

"  That's  where  I  started  from  before  I  lost  myself 
on  the  lava,"  said  Glynne. 

"  Yes,  it 's  easy  to  miss  the  trail  there,"  Tyson 
agreed.  "  However,  I  did  n't  miss  it,  and  I  went  to 
sleep,  and  slept  long  into  the  next  morning.  I  'd  been 
dreaming  about  my  sister,  and  when  I  woke  up  I 
thought  I  saw  her  and  that  I  was  still  dreaming. 
There  was  a  little  girl,  just  about  her  age,  feeding 

20 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


the  burro,  which  I  had  hobbled,  and  then  rubbing 
his  nose  with  her  cheek.  It  was  Nona ;  and  then 
her  father  came  up,  and  it  seemed  that  they  had  both 
ridden  over  from  Fort  Navajo.  That  was  the  way 
we  three  became  acquainted." 

During  the  narrative  Glynne  had  seen  Nona  from 
time  to  time  through  the  window,  though  Tyson  was 
not  aware  that  he  was  not  absorbing,  as  he  appeared 
to  be,  all  his  friend's  attention.  Nona  here,  playing 
battledore  and  shuttlecock  with  tennis  balls  on  the 
lawn ;  Nona  there,  talking  volubly  to  an  old  gar 
dener  in  a  rough  straw  hat  and  blue  jeans,  who  was 
spraying  the  flowers ;  Nona  leaping  over  the  tennis 
nets,  and  then  catching  the  old  gardener  around  the 
waist  and  dragging  him  into  a  laboured  waltz  ;  Nona 
dropping  into  a  wicker  chair  and  for  five  minutes  at 
a  stretch  see-sawing  her  foot  and  reading  a  book ; 
Nona,  tired  of  her  book,  picking  up  from  the  lawn  a 
tame  horned  toad  and  catching  flies  for  it;  Nona 
gravely  conferring  with  a  pig-tailed  Chinese  cook, 
who  came  out  to  consult  her — and  then  Nona  in  her 
pink  frock  and  her  ribbons  vanished  for  a  while,  leav 
ing  Julian  Glynne  impatient  for  her  return. 

"  She 's  a  wonder,  is  Nona,"  Tyson  vouched.  "  I 
believe  that  girl 's  as  strong  as  I  am.  She 's  a  dead 
shot,  and  rides  like  an  Indian.  Yet  she  's  a  woman, 
clean  through,  and  you  could  n't  find  a  better  house 
keeper  than  Nona  is.  As  for  cooking !  She  can  do 
more  with  a  chafing  dish  than  a  conjuror  can  do  with 
his  hat." 

He  paused  in  his  eulogy. 

"  Guess  I'm  boring  you  ?  " 

Glynne  beamed  and  shook  his  head. 

"  Well,  there 's  not  much  more  to  tell.  The  Senator 
21 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


financed  the  mine,  and  we  own  it,  except  for  a  small 
minority  interest.  We  are  the  best  of  friends,  the 
Senator,  Nona  and  I,  and  I  make  my  home  with 
them." 

"The  Senator?" 

"  Nona's  father— Senator  Plant." 

"  One  of  your  courtesy  titles  ? " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  A  United  States  Senator  ?  " 

"  Sure  ;  that  is,  Senator-elect.  He  has  n't  taken 
his  seat  yet,  but  he  will  in  December." 

"The  name  is  familiar  to  me  in  some  way." 
Glynne  searched  his  memory.  "  Oh,  yes,  it  was  some 
thing  I  saw  in  the  newspapers  when  I  was  in  the 
East." 

"  You  mean  the  attempt  to  unseat  him  ? " 

"  That  was  it." 

"  There  was  nothing  in  it,  except  politics  and  Mike 
Dougherty.  Mike  wanted  the  seat,  and  tried  to 
crowd  the  Senator.  Well,  everybody  knows  what 
happens  when  anybody  crowds  the  Senator.  You 
might  as  well  crowd  a  hedgehog.  Some  money  was 
spent.  Mike  used  it  by  the  bucketful,  illegitimately, 
and  the  Senator  by  the  barrel,  legitimately." 

Tyson  looked  out  of  the  window.  "There  is 
Nona  now,  and  the  Senator." 

"Ah,  yes,  Miss  Plant — you  say  her  name  is 
Yerona,  and  you  cut  it  to  Nona  ?  But  the  Senator  ? 
I  do  not  see  him." 

"  In  the  blue  jeans." 

"  Quite  so.     I  thought  that  was  the — " 

"  That 's  the  Senator.  Come  down  and  see 
him." 

"  Am  I  fit  to  be  seen  ? "    Glynne  had  changed 

22 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


the  dressing-gown    for  a  suit   of  Tyson's   newest 
flannels. 

"  I  wish  they  'd  look  half  as  well  on  me  as  they  do 
on  you,"  replied  Tyson,  with  frank  admiration,  as  he 
glanced  at  Glynne  and  noted  his  suave  grace. 


23 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  III.     Dinner  at  Sheba 


W HEIST  they  reached  the  lawn  Glynne 
swiftly  took  in  those  exterior  features 
of  the  house  which  he  had  not  yet 
seen.     Large    enough  for  a  country 
club,  it  was  in  some  things  a  reproduc 
tion  of  an  old  Spanish  mission,  and  in 
other  ways  it  had  gathered  to  itself  the  generous 
yet  simple  beauty  of  the  "  old  Colonial "  type — two 
stories  high,  rambling  and  roomy,  with  walls  of  pink 
adobe  and  a  crouching  roof  of  nuted  red  tiles.     The 
garden  had  been  made  to  thrive  by  irrigation,  and 
alien  flowers  and  shrubs  touched  and  elbowed  less 
dainty  and  less  lovely  native  growths  such  as  the 
cacti  and  the  mesquit  bushes,  and  the  little  pines  and 
cedars,  which  held  aloof  like  old  settlers  who  had 
pre-empted  the  space  from  the  beginning  and  were 
sullen  in  the  face  of  invasion.     The  water,  sprayed 
by  the  fountains  and  ribboned  in  the  narrow  canals, 
entered  the  grounds  by  a  flume  in  the  rear,  which 
was  looped  on  tressels  to  the  spring  in  the  distant 
hills.     The  lawn  was  green  and  soft  and  good  for 
the  eyes,  and  Glynne  could  hardly  believe  the  flowers 
which  nodded  and  shook  in  the  fine  and  welcome 

24 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

moisture ;  they  were  at  his  feet  and  within  touch  of 
his  hand,  bordering  the  smooth  and  closely  clipped 
lawn,  part  of  which  was  blocked  out  for  a  tennis 
court,  while  beyond — beyond  the  gates  and  the  hedges 
formed  of  a  shrub  of  waxy  leaves  and  shining  red 
bark,  the  arid  plain  rolled  out  to  the  horizon  in  life 
less  waves,  stinging  the  face  with  a  glaring  heat 
that  writhed  like  the  tongues  of  serpents.  The 
derricks  of  the  mine  and  the  shanties  and  stores  of 
the  miners  cropped  up  on  a  slope  a  mile  away,  and 
the  old  pueblo  on  the  other  flank  of  Manana  was  not 
separable  by  the  eye  from  the  many-coloured  table 
lands  which  were  set  around  it. 

Glynne  kept  his  eyes  on  Nona,  who  now  mounted 
on  a  mustang,  was  again  and  again  putting  the 
prancing,  agile  little  beast  over  the  gate. 

The  Senator  shook  his  hand  and  looked  him  over 
from  head  to  foot.  Glynne  smiled  and  bowed,  but 
had  the  sensation  of  a  not  altogether  painless  prob 
ing  operation  under  the  quick  observation  of  the 
Senator's  eyes.  The  pain,  however,  was  no  more 
than  that  of  the  sitter  before  a  camera,  who  has  con 
fidence  that  though  the  lens  may  be  too  precise  there 
will  be  artistic  opportunities  for  "  re-touching  "  the 
plate  and  softening  it.  As  for  the  Senator,  the 
challenge  vanished  from  his  face  as  it  does  from  a 
photographer's  when  the  posing  is  over  and  the  click 
of  the  shutter  completes  what  is  expected  to  be  a 
successful  sitting. 

The  Senator  was  a  rotund,  rustic-looking  man  of 
an  unmodified  Saxon  type,  unparched  by  the  desert 
heat  and  Western  transplantation,  who  varied  with 
circumstances  from  amiable  and  irresponsible  gar 
rulity  to  silence,  decision  and  the  quick  execution  of 

25 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


a  steel  trap.  Glynne's  camera  clicked  this  time,  and 
recorded  latent  stubbornness  under  superficial  plia 
bility. 

Efe  laughed  again,  and  threw  up  his  hands.  That 
laugh  of  his  had  no  strain  or  effort  in  it,  and  welled 
up  as  naturally  as  the  song  of  a  bird  or  the  delight  of 
a  child. 

"  Is  it  a  hold-up,  Senator  ? " 

His  arms  were  upraised  in  a  V  until  his  finger 
tips  met  over  his  head  in  an  attitude  of  submission 
and  supplication.  The  corners  of  the  Senator's  mouth 
curled  and  showed  that  their  metal  could  be  warmed 
into  malleability. 

"  That's  all  right.  We  can  go  through  you  later 
if  we  want  to.  We  Ve  corralled  you  anyway.  Glad 
to  see  you  here  at  Sheba.  Some  of  our  people  do 
not  like  the  English  as  a  nation,  but  I  am  not  with 
them — not  on  all  occasions.  I  am  a  friend  of  Eng 
land,  but  not  of  her  government,  not  of  her  aristo 
cracy,  not  of  her  privileged  classes,  not  of  her  heredi 
tary  legislators." 

"  Why,  pa,  how  you  talk !  He 's  one  of  them," 
Nona  protested,  in  the  interest  of  politeness,  indicat 
ing  Glynne,  who  shook  his  head  with  deprecation. 

"  That 's  all  right,"  the  Senator  continued,  in  a 
cheerful  response,  to  avert  embarrassment.  "We 
came  from  England,  the  Plants  did — came  in  the 
Mayflower.  Why,  look  at  the  name !  What  did  it 
come  from  ?  Plant — Plantagenet.  Hiram  Plant  for 
short,  Hiram  Plantagenet  for  long.  I  can  prove  it, 
sure  as  you  're  born.  We  've  got  a  coat  of  arms  and 
a  family  tree ;  got  the  whole  story  from  a  regular 
heraldic  office  in  Leicester  Square.  I  '11  show  them 
to  you  when  we  go  indoors.  Oh,  you  English  are  all 

26 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


right,"  he  went  on,  "  if  you  're  only  caught  when 
you  're  very  young.  Look  at  Jim  Tyson  there.  We 
caught  him  young,  but  not  young  enough  to  civilise 
him.  He  might  have  been  a  good  American,  but  he 's 
only  an  old  Tory  of  about  the  time  of  George  III.,  and 
hardly  ever  heard  of  George  Washington ;  did  you, 
Jim?  .  .  .  Well, — guesses  he  has  heard  the  name 
somewhere  perhaps." 

The  Senator  had  two  manners — the  forensic,  which 
led  him  into  flights  of  rhetoric,  and  the  colloquial, 
which  fitted  him  better  and  gave  him  infinitely  greater 
ease.  He  was  counting  on  the  secretary  he  Avould  have 
in  Washington  to  sustain  him  in  the  former  on  offi 
cial  occasions  and  in  writing  his  speeches  for  him,  while 
as  for  the  latter  it  would  not  be  thought  extreme  or 
unusual  in  the  private  and  social  functions  outside  the 
Senate  Chamber. 

Starting  from  a  New  England  farm  in  his  boyhood, 
the  Senator  had  grown  up  with  the  West,  and  seen 
the  filling  of  the  map  as  railways  and  settlements 
spread  like  rank-growing  vines  from  the  Missouri 
over  the  empty  desert  places,  sinking  their  roots  in 
plain,  canon  and  hill.  His  energy  had  spent  itself 
diffusely  in  some  visionary  and  profitless  ventures 
with  only  rainbow  rewards,  though  occasionally  the 
desired  riches  had  been  almost  within  his  grasp. 
Kestless  in  temperament,  sanguine,  he  had  often 
pitched  his  tent  in  the  mirage,  or  let  the  bird  in  handL 
escape  while  he  followed  a  more  enticing  whistle  in 
another  quarter;  and  so  for  years  he  had  swung 
from  rancn  to  mine  and  from  mine  to  ranch  without 
appreciably  enriching  himself.  Easy-going  and  ami 
able  by  nature,  he  had  occasionally  allowed  himself 
to  be  duped,  and  in  the  fierce  race  of  the  frontier  he 

27 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


had  sometimes  been  left  behind,  disheartened  tem 
porarily  but  not  vanquished.  Success  came  at  last 
with  the  "  Queen  of  Sheba,"  but  out  of  that  grew 
his  quarrel  with  Mike  Dougherty,  the  man  he  had 
befriended  in  early  life  and  always  trusted.  From  a 
dispute  over  a  claim  the  feud  had  spread  into  politics 
and  into  social  life  with  the  bitterness  and  implaca 
bility  of  a  vendetta,  and  Hiram  Plant  had  suddenly 
called  into  action  the  sterner  elements  of  his  character, 
surprising  those  who  had  known  him  longest  by  the 
persistence  and  virility  of  his  resistance. 

Everywhere  Nona  had  been  with  him  in  his  wan 
derings,  except  in  the  childhood  of  her  motherless 
life.  Those  early  years  had  been  divided  between  a 
relative  in  Chicago,  and  a  period  in  San  Francisco, 
where  in  her  fourteenth  year  she  had  attended  a 
young  ladies'  seminary  conducted  on  modern  lines, 
and  under  a  not  too  repressive  discipline.  There  she 
had  been  projected  with  facility  from  the  elementary 
branches  of  academical  knowledge  into  a  "  finishing 
course,"  the  fullness  and  completeness  of  which  in 
exterior  graces  as  well  as  in  intellectual  development 
were  certified  by  an  emblazoned  diploma  on  parch 
ment,  bearing  three  signatures  and  some  Latin,  now 
hanging  in  an  ornate  frame  in  her  bed-room  at  Sheba. 
This  parchment  was  Nona's  supreme  vanity,  her  pal 
ladium  against  the  pretensions  of  others;  but  her 
natural  knowledge,  apart  from  the  academic,  had  a 
variety  and  an  extent  not  to  be  summarised  on  any 
mere  sheet  of  parchment. 

The  Senator  rather  took  to  Glynne :  Tyson,  who 
had  been  watching,  could  see  that,  and  he  saw  it 
with  satisfaction. 

"Took  me  for  the  gardener,  eh?"  the  Senator 

28 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


said,  smiling.  "  Well,  the  other  day  a  fellow  came 
up  to  me  right  where  we  are  now,  a  stranger  from 
somewheres  and  he  says,  *  Where's  the  boss?' 
1  You  're  lookin'  at  him,'  I  says.  He  looked  north  and 
he  looked  east,  and  he  looked  west  and  he  looked 
south.  *  I  do  n't  see  no  boss.  What  are  you  givin' 
us?'  he  says,  and  he  walked  off.  I  walked  over 
to  the  house  and  took  these  old  blue  jeans  off,  and 
sat  down  in  the  library  (say,  I'm  great  on  old 
books!).  Then  he  came  back,  and  John  showed 
him  in.  <  I  want  to  see  the  boss,'  he  began  again, 
and  blinked  at  me  as  if  he  war  n't  sure  he  re 
cognised  me.  'Look  at  him  quick,  then,'  says  I, 
*  for  you  've  seen  him  twice,  and  I  got  no  more  time 
to  lose.  You  ain't  fit  to  be  out  here  anyway,  young 
man.  Go  back  east.  You've  got  your  eyes  too 
much  on  clothes.' " 

JSTona  put  her  arm  through  his  and  drew  him  into 
the  house.  "You're  not  the  boss, dad;  I  am,"  she 
asserted,  and  he  beamed  on  her  and  stroked  her  hair, 
as  they  passed  into  the  cool,  lofty  entrance  hall,  fol 
lowed  by  Tyson  and  Glynne. 

The  mounted  heads  of  elk,  antelope,  wolf,  mountain 
sheep  and  bear  stared  glassily  from  the  high,  yellow 
and  white  walls. 

"  Nona's  trophies,"  Tyson  confided  to  his  friend ; 
"  and  see  that  rug  there — the  grizzly — that 's  her's 
too." 

Glynne  arched  his  eye-brows,  and  measured  the 
huntress. 

The  early  dinner  was  served  with  some  formality 
by  two  noiseless  and  nimble  Chinamen  who  seemed 
to  be  wafted  about  with  aerial  lightness  and  by  se 
raphic  impulse.  It  was  not  unappetising.  There  was 

29 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


fresh  lamb  from  the  pueblo,  game  from  the  neigh 
bouring  plains,  and  fruit  from  California.  All  went 
very  well  till  a  segment  of  a  dark  hard  meat  was 
placed  before  the  Senator.  He  scrutinised  it  with 
exaggerated  suspicion  and  grappled  it  with  his  fork, 
drawing  in  his  lips  and  wrinkling  his  brow  as  if  to 
prepare  for  an  unusual  effort.  It  resisted  his  knife 
and  he  pushed  his  plate  away  from  him,  winking  at 
Glynne  as  he  did  so. 

"  Another  of  Nona's  trophies !  Here,  take  it  away, 
John,  and  give  me  some  harm  "  (that  was  the  way  he 
pronounced  it)  "  and  some  of  that  bird  on  the  same 
plate." 

Nona's  eyes  were  orange  and  green,  and  all  the 
decorum  acquired  in  the  San  Francisco  seminary  was 
in  peril. 

"  Look  here,  Senator,  do  n't  be  too  gay,"  protested 
Tyson.  "  Do  n't  let  him  bluff  you,  Nona." 

"  Delicious,"  murmured  Glynne,  and  Nora  insisted 
he  should  have  some  more. 

"  Why,  it 's  bear ! "  the  Senator  exclaimed,  pretend 
ing  to  make  a  sudden  discovery.  "  Nona  got  her  old 
dad  his  favourite  dish  ?  How  did  she  get  it,  for  the 
land's  sake  ? " 

He  got  up  from  his  chair  and  went  behind  her  and 
patted  her,  a  form  of  caress  that  was  frequent  be 
tween  them.  "  Look  here,  John,"  he  said,  in  an  in 
tentionally  audible  whisper,  when  he  seated  himself 
again,  "  if  there 's  any  of  that  bear  left  when  that 
Englishman  has  done  eating,  save  it  for  me." 

The  "  area  of  depression,"  as  the  English  news 
papers  so  often  describe  their  weather,  yielded  to 
sunshine  again,  and  the  Senator  turned  to  Glynne. 

"  Know  the  Queen  very  well,  I  guess  ? " 

30 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

"Very  little." 

"  And  you  an  aristocrat !  " 

"  That  does  not  always  count.  Besides  the  word 
does  not  quite  fit  me,  Senator." 

"But  a  man  of  birth?" 

"  Is  not  always  privileged." 

He  smiled  at  Tyson  to  recall  their  conversation  on 
that  subject,  and  Tyson  nodded  back  sympatheti 
cally.  N ona  was  paring  an  apple,  and  listening  with 
her  mouth  open,  a  habit  she  nad  which  grated  on 
Jim's  idea  of  elegance.  She  seemed  to  be  always 
eating  apples,  or  that  was  the  effect  of  his  irritated 
observation,  and  the  eating  involved  abstraction  and 
parted  lips,  and  the  look  of  Eve  pondering  on  her 
sins. 

"  A  Tory  ? "  continued  the  Senator. 

"A  conservative  where  beautiful  things  are  con 
cerned.  I  fear  I  am  a  rather  vague  sort  of  person, 
without  coherence  and  without  convictions.  Politics 
do  not  interest  me." 

Nona  tossed  her  head,  and  her  father  half  shut  his 
eyes  and  drew  in  his  lips.  "Talking  through  his 
hat,"  said  Tyson. 

"  No,  I  am  in  earnest.  I  am  like  a  gypsy  born  at 
a  cross-road,  four  fingers  on  the  white  post  pointing 
to  four  roads — the  Navy,  the  Army,  the  Church,  the 
Bar." 

The  pictorial  imagination  of  Tyson  at  once  created 
the  scene  out  of  the  symbol :  a  thatched  cottage  on 
a  triangular  green;  swelling  hedgerows;  a  duck- 
pond,  and  a  tall  white  finger-post  indexing  the  four 
quarters.  To  him  the  spoken  word  often  conjured 
up  pictures. 

"  Alas !  I  was  not  meek  enough  for  the  Church, 

31 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


too  honest  for  the  Bar,  too  fond  of  dry  land  for  the 
Navy,  and —  " 

"  Had  no  taste  for  war  ? "  again  Nona  inter 
rupted. 

Glynn  laughed.     "  No  aptitude  for  it." 

"  He  was  wounded  at  Omdurman,"  said  Tyson 
quickly,  springing  the  information  triumphantly  as  a 
matter  of  personal  pride.  He  had  been  rapt  in  his 
friend's  revelations. 

"I  blundered  in  that  as  I  have  blundered  in  so 
many  things." 

Nona  and  her  father  were  in  the  presence  of  the 
unfamiliar,  and  they  watched  him  and  listened  to  him 
dubiously.  He  threw  appealing  glances  to  them  as 
he  talkea,  and  smiled  :  his  voice  had  a  low  vibration 
in  it  that  at  points  evoked  and  expressed  pathos;  his 
smile  was  more  plaintive  than  jocund,  and  when  it 
ceased  his  face  fell  under  a  luminous  shadow  of  medi 
tation.  He  was  enigmatic  to  them,  and  they  let 
judgment  wait  on  the  entertaining  perplexities  which 
further  experience  might  elucidate. 

Out  of  one  eye  the  Senator  was  scanning  the  inter- 
lacings  of  the  Family  Tree  of  the  Plants,  which  hung 
over  a  fireplace,  while  he  turned  the  other  from  Nona 
to  Glynne  and  from  Glynne  to  Tyson  in  impartial 
scrutiny. 

"  You  like  him  now,  do  n't  you  ? "  Tyson  whispered 
to  Nona,  as  they  retired  from  the  dining-room  to  the 
hall. 

"  '  A  rather  vague  sort  of  person,' "  she  quoted 
disdainfully  in  Glynne's  voice. 

"  Can't  you  see  that 's  only  talk— the  playful  way 
such  people  have  of  expressing  themselves  to  avoid 
being  too  serious  ? " 

32 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Oh,  then  he  was  n't  wounded  at  that  place,  and 
was  n't  born  at  the  cross-roads.  That  was  just — 
ahem ! — persiflage." 

Nona  had  carried  another  apple  away  with  her 
from  the  table,  and  was  munching  it. 

"  Have  you  no  sense  of  humour,  Nona  ?  Can't  you 
separate  the  wheat  from  the  chaff  ?  Of  course  he 
was  wounded." 

"  Talks  an  awful  lot.  Do  you  call  him  fine-look 
ing,  Jim  \ " 

"  You  know  he  is." 

"  I  do  n't  know.  Looks  as  if  he  had  n't  any  grit. 
Talks  somehow  like  a  parlour  organ." 

Nona  glanced  around  guardedly.  Her  father  was 
drawing  nis  finger  intricately  down  the  Family  Tree 
from  the  twig  on  which  his  own  name  blossomed  to 
the  roots  buried  in  the  mould  of  the  Plantagenets. 
She  looked  with  furtive  fondness  at  Tyson,  at  his 
slack  figure,  at  his  plain  face  with  the  round,  gleam 
ing,  honest,  spectacled  eyes.  Then  she  took  the  apple 
out  of  her  mouth  and  deliberately  pressed  a  warm 
kiss  behind  his  ear. 

"  You  're  more  my  style  than  he  is,  Jim,"  she  said, 
and  at  that  moment  Glynne  was  just  coming  in, 
secretly  yawning  behind  the  Senator's  back. 


33 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  IV.    A  Difficult  Trail,  an  Old 
Pueblo  and  a  IVoman  in  White 


NONA  was  going  over  to  Fort  Navaio  that 
afternoon  to  see  Mrs.  Dennison,  the  col 
onel's  widow,  who  was  to  chaperon  her 
when  she  went  East,  and  she  invited 
Glynne  to  accompany  her.     Two  ponies 
were  led  up  to  the  porch  by  a  cowboy  in 
buckskin  and  sombrero,  who  rendered  such  services 
without  any  consciousness  or  manifestation  of  inferi 
ority.     Tyson,  Glynne,  and  even  the  Senator  himself 
were  "  you  fellows  "  to  him,  though  Nona  for  her  sex 
and  his  own  mother's  received  a  simple  tribute  of 
deference,  and  was  addressed  as  "  marm." 

The  pony  brought  for  her  use  was  the  one  Glynne 
had  already  seen,  spirited  but  docile,  with  speaking 
ears  and  a  secret  belief  that  his  mistress's  real  name 
was  Sugar.  That  intended  for  Glynne  seemed  de 
termined  to  be  a  biped,  and  to  prove  that  its  fore 
legs  were  superfluous  except  as  arms  and  hands 
to  juggle  with.  More  like  a  rampant  unicorn  than 
a  horse,  he  rocked  on  his  haunches  and  blew  out  his 
nostrils  till  they  flamed  like  balls  of  red  fire. 
The  cowboy's  bristling  moustache  twitched  in 

34 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Nona's  direction,  but  Nona  pulling  on  her  gloves  was 
demurely  unobservant. 

Glynne  still  smiled,  though  somewhere  behind  he 
suppressed  other  emotions. 

"  You  can  ride,  of  course,  Mr.  Glynne  ? "  said 
Nona,  with  insidious  smoothness  as  she  wrenched  the 
button  at  her  wrist. 

"  Certainly,  but—" 

"  But  ? " 

"  Any  ordinary  mount  out  of  an  ordinary  stable 
— but  not  the  steeds  of  the  Valkyries.  Now  that 
looks,  that  beast,  as  if  he  had  sprung  out  of  an  an 
tique  frieze.  Keally  he  is  quite  mythological." 

"Torp— Torpedo?" 

"  "What  a  nice  name ! " 

"  He 's  all  right,"  said  the  cowboy,  whose  mous 
tache  had  been  wagging  like  the  trick  fixture  of  a 
clown.  "Honest,  he's  all  right.  Fresh?  Yes. 
Playful?  Yes.  Like  to  dance,  don't  you,  Torp? 
Want  to  shake  hands  and  kiss  the  gentleman  ? " 

The  bronco  was  pawing  the  air  like  an  educated 
poodle. 

Glynne  pulled  on  his  own  gloves,  a  borrowed  pair, 
and  edged  down  to  Apache,  Nona's  pony. 

"  Then  you  won't  go  with  me,  Mr.  Glynne,  if  you 
are  afraid  of  Torp  ? "  she  said,  with  a  turn  of  the 
head. 

"  Go  with  you  ?  Indeed  I  shall  Miss  Plant.  But 
really  I  'm  hardly  up  to  riding  high  explosives.  I 
may  go  up  all  right,  but  look  out  for  the  fragments 
when  I  come  down." 

He  smiled  with  desperate  gaiety,  and  nimbly,  with 
a  look  at  Nona,  vaulted  into  the  saddle.  A  fearful 
moment  for  him  followed,  and  the  colour  sank  in  his 

35 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


face,  but  he  set  his  teeth  and  dug  his  knees  into  the 
bronco  with  a  determination  and  a  skill  that  sur 
prised  Nona  and  the  man. 

Just  then  Tyson  came  out  of  the  house. 

"For  God's  sake!  What's  this?  Here,  Glynne, 
do  n't  ride  that  brute ;  he  '11  throw  you,  sure.  Why 
did  you  give  him  that  for  a  mount,  Chid  ? " 

Chidsey,  the  man,  twitched  the  bronze  wire  wings 
of  his  moustache.  "  He 's  all  right.  Hell ;  I  did  n't 
allow  that  tenderfoot  could  ride  like  that." 

Torpedo  hung  his  neck  and  arched  his  back  till  he 
seemed  to  be  suspended  from  the  girth  by  an  aerial 
pulley.  Glynne  held  his  seat  and  with  a  dig  at 
the  brute's  flank  rode  him  through  the  gates  and  out 
into  the  sandy  plain.  Again  and  again  the  brute 
balked,  and  with  clustered  hoofs  and  rigid  legs 
bounded  up  and  down  with  mechanical  inflexibility. 
Glynne  slid  over  his  shoulders  and  lost  a  stirrup,  but  re 
covered  himself  and  again  forced  a  gallop — a  frenzied 
gallop — then  a  respectable  canter,  and  finally  a  shak 
ing,  unwilling  walk,  the  pace  at  which  after  a  hot 
circuit  of  a  mile  he  rode  up,  capless,  to  the  porch. 

"  Are  you  quite  ready,  Miss  Plant  ? "  he  asked 
coolly,  and  turning  to  Tyson,  "  I  must  borrow  an 
other  cap :  a  beggar  on  horseback,  you  know.  What 
a  cadger  you  must  think  me ! " 

Nona  was  still  smarting  under  Tyson's  remon 
strances. 

"  He— Torp— is  a  little  bit  skittish,  is  n't  he  ?"  she 
said  ingenuously  ;  and  then,  "  Perhaps  you  do  n't 
have  horses  like  that  in  England.  Let  Chid  get  you 
another,  Mr.  Glynne." 

Chidsey's  moustaches  drooped  in  suspense,  but 
when  he  heard  Glynne's  answer  they  shot  out  again 

36 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


like  bayonets,  and  Chidsey's  future  allegiance  to  the 
Englishman  was  secure. 

"  Oh  dear  no  !  This  was  your  choice,  Miss  Plant, 
and  I  cannot  think  of  changing." 

Tyson  went  over  to  the  mine,  and  Nona  and  Glynne 
galloped  off  in  the  direction  of  Fort  Navajo.  There 
was  a  road,  but  at  Nona's  suggestion  they  followed 
an  old  trail  which  the  Indians  had  strung  across  the 
desert  long  ago :  it  was  invisible  to  Glynne,  but  she 
picked  up  and  unravelled  the  faint  thread  with  the 
unerring  eye  of  a  plainsman.  The  sun  was  high  in 
the  fleckless  violet  sky,  and  the  landscape  looked 
crisped,  charred  and  brittle.  The  buttresses  of  the 
yellow  and  red  table-lands  stood  out  like  the  rams  of 
war-ships ;  farther  off,  scores  of  miles  farther  than 
any  stranger  would  have  thought,  some  scollops  of 
snow  were  lifted  on  the  higher  peaks  into  the  sky ; 
the  sandy  levels  of  the  plains  spreading  interminably 
with  dull  prolixity  were  tangled  and  matted  with  the 
hoary  coarse-fibred  sage-brush.  Everything  had  a 
vitreous  glitter  and  sharpness,  and  an  observer  from 
a  distance  would  have  seen  in  the  man  and  the  woman 
riding  there  a  resemblance  to  the  little  toy  figures 
which  are  crystallized  and  imprisoned  in  frosted  glass 
globes.  The  solitude  was  complete,  and  the  silence 
broken  only  by  their  voices  ana  the  wind  droning  in 
their  ears.  Once  a  rattlesnake  scurried  across  their 
path,  and  when  they  pulled  up,  clattered  his  castanets 
in  menace ;  a  coyote  sneaked  away  at  their  approach, 
and  a  jack-rabbit  whisked  into  the  brush.  Again 
Nona  pulled  up  to  show  a  pale  watery-looking  centi 
pede  three  inches  long,  and  farther  on  she  pointed 
out  a  tarantula,  a  Goliath  of  the  spiders,  bearing  his 
opulent  bulk  on  his  hairy  stilts  like  a  portly  undertaker. 

37 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Township  of  prairie  dogs  defied  them,  turned  tail, 
and  defied  them  more  noisily  than  ever :  a  dark  spot 
hovering  in  the  encompassing  blue  was  an  eagle. 

Nona,  with  a  new  sweetness  and  a  softer  smile, 
looked  on  Glynne  with  friendlier  eyes  than  ever  be 
fore.  She  was  mollified  and  attracted  by  his  courage 
with  the  horse,  as  he  intended  she  should  be,  and 
conscious  of  his  propitiation  he  found  her  more  al 
luring  in  the  spacious,  windy  and  aromatic  convexity 
of  sky  and  plain  than  in  the  confinement  of  the  house. 
She  belonged  to  this  spaciousness  as  much  as  did  the 
infrequent  fa  una,  and  fitted  the  landscape  as  a  kins 
woman  to  all  that  it  held.  Her  rounded  figure  had 
no  slackness  or  superfluity  ;  her  lips  were  as  red  as 
red  carnations,  with  a  drift  of  pearly  white  beneath, 
and  under  the  silky  shelter  of  their  lashes  her  eyes 
sparkled  like  sea  ripples  in  a  copper  bronze  sunset. 
From  admiration  Glynne's  emotion  ran  into  compas 
sion —  compassion  for  her  motherlessness,  for  her 
crudity,  for  her  social  impossibility,  for  her  vulgar 
simplicity.  He  checked  himself  impatiently.  No, 
she  was  not  vulgar  nor  crude.  He  wheeled  on  the 
words,  and  revised  his  opinion. 

He  had  been  measuring  her  by  a  standard  which 
did  not  apply  to  her,  by  a  dressmaker's  tape,  by  a 
governess's  eye, — by  those  conventions  he  himself 
often  sinned  against  and  despised,  by  those  parodies 
of  propriety  and  conspiracies  against  Nature  which 
make  mirth  for  devils  and  pageantries  for  hypocrites. 
Of  her  time  and  place  she  was  admirable — admi 
rable  in  her  freedom  and  naturalness,  and  as  expres 
sive  of  present  conditions  as  the  Indian  was  of  earlier 
days. 

He  surprised  himself  by  the  heat  of  his  recanta- 

38 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

tion ;  wondered  at  it ;  confirmed  it ;  and  then  offered 
her  another  of  the  fragments  of  uncertain  length  and 
undetermined  purpose  which  had  been  serving  them 
as  colloquy. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said,  "  Tyson  somehow  seems 
out  of  place  here.  I  cannot  think  of  him  as  a  prac 
tical  man,  a  man  of  mechanics,  a  man  of  business,  a 
man  of  fortune.  He  ought  to  have  been  a  poet  or  a 
painter ;  he  is  a  dreamer,  and  looks  at  things  through 
the  imagination,  not  with  actual  eyes.  When  ne 
talks  about  England  it  is  easy  to  fancy  oneself  in  a 
landscape  painter's  studio  ;  he  makes  me  think  of 
Jack  Ellery  (Jack 's  an  Academician),  who  thinks 
England  is  the  seat  of  all  the  beauty  of  the  world." 

"  Oh,  Jim 's  a  crank.  The  trouble  with  him  is  that 
he  's  in  love."  She  tossed  her  head. 

"  That  is  easy  enough  to  understand." 

"I  suppose  everybody  in  love  is  a  crank?"  she 
ventured. 

"  I  leave  that  to  the  wisdom  of  woman.  My  ex 
perience  in  such  matters  is  that  women  are  the  only 
pilots ;  they  know  all  the  depths  and  all  the  sound 
ings." 

"  I  do  n't  mean  in  love  with  a  woman.  I  mean  in 
love  with  that  old  England.  Is  it  really  so  beauti 
ful  ?  I  knew  plenty  of  girls  in  San  Francisco  who 
had  been  to  Europe,  and  they  all  said  they  loved 
Paris  and  hated  London,  and  not  only  London  but 
everything  English.  They  said  you  English  were 
such  snobs.  What  are  old  Family  Trees  anyhow  ? " 
she  asked  unguardedly. 

"  Rotten  timber,  generally — that  is,  some  are.  I 
do  not  boast  of  mine." 

She  pulled  in  Apache,  and  the  plain,  blistering  and 

39 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


splintery  in  the  profulgent  air,  was  riven  by  a  dark 
chasm  undiscoverable  until  they  stood  on  its  brink. 
There  they  stood  with  the  simmering  level  like  a 
vast  floor  behind  and  to  the  right  and  the  left  of 
them,  and  before  them  a  black  ravine  with  vertical 
walls  plunging  down  to  a  narrow  bed  of  reddish 
sand.  Huge,  purplish  boulders  were  tumbled  along 
the  bed,  and  among  them  a  thin  stream  like  a  silver 
wire  unwound  itself  and  rippled  among  clusters  of 
cottonwood,  which  hung  from  fissures  and  ledges  in 
the  wall,  their  leaves  dancing  and  singing  in  the  wind 
like  the  spray  of  a  fountain. 

The  unexpectedness  of  the  approach,  the  absence 
of  any  premonitory  sign  of  change  in  the  continuity 
of  the  plain,  until  the  gap  itself  opened  at  their  feet 
like  a  wound  suddenly  inflicted,  gave  the  beholders 
an  inevitable  shock  which  even  Nona  could  not 
altogether  evade. 

She  searched  Glynne's  face  for  the  effect  which  in 
her  own  was  expressed  in  parted  lips  and  widened 
eyes. 

He  was  pale  and  awed. 

"  Dantesque,"  he  said .  "  Yes,  one  can  fancy  hearing 
the  moans  of  Paola  and  Francesca  down  there." 
And  then,  "  Come  on,"  pointing  his  horse  away  from 
the  abyss. 

"  No,  we  go  down  here.     This  is  the  way." 

He  looked  again.  Foothold  was  possible  in  a 
zig-zag  course  which  sloped  from  bench  to  bench,  now 
carved  in  narrow  galleries  and  then  looped  around 
the  loose  detritus,  but  the  angle — what  foolhardi- 
ness! 

"  We  always  go  down  here ;  it 's  the  regular  trail," 
she  urged.  "  It 's  easy." 

40 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Already  Apache's  fore-feet  were  on  the  declivity, 
put  forth  guardedly  like  those  of  a  stalking  cat,  and 
all  Nona's  weight  was  thrown  on  his  haunches. 

"  Don't  be  silly,  Miss—" 

"  Nona." 

"Miss  Nona." 

"Just  Nona." 

"Look  here,  Nona!  You  still  think  I  am  a 
coward ;  you  thought  so  when  you  gave  me  this 
beast  to  ride.  But — " 

"Come  on." 

"  I  am  thinking  of  you.     Why  be  foolhardy  ?  " 

Her  head  was  bared,  and  her  brown  hair,  blown 
out  in  the  wind,  alone  remained  visible  above  the 
sharp-cut  edge  of  the  precipice. 

"  Well,  if  you  will,  you  sorceress ! " 

"  Torp "  was  behaving  well,  and  seemed  to  be 
ready  for  the  responsibility  before  him  and  not  a 
novice  in  such  difficulties. 

"  Why  not  dismount  and  walk  ? "  Glynne  per 
sisted. 

"  Nobody  walks  down  here." 

The  cold  air  of  the  canon  blew  upon  them,  and 
their  eyes  blinked  in  the  change  from  the  glare  above 
to  the  twilight  below.  Loose  stones  were  started, 
and  rumbled  ominously  into  the  depths ;  the  tossing 
of  the  cotton-woods  surged  like  a  cascade.  Apache 
and  his  companion  picked  their  way  and  pricked  their 
ears  at  the  angles ;  and  when  stepping  was  impossible 
stiffened  their  legs  and  slid.  Near  the  bottom  the  trail 
spread  and  became  easier,  and  then  Glynne  dis 
mounted  and  slung  his  reins  over  his  arm.  He  was 
abreast  of  Nona,  and  she  stood  still  to  look  up  at  the 
precarious  path  above  them  and  the  azure  roof  of 

41 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


sky  that  bridged  the  gulf.  Both  of  them  were 
flushed  and  glowing  with  excitement. 

"  Fine,  is  n't  it !  Looking  down  from  up  there  is 
just  like  being  a  bird  in  the  air.  That 's  the  way  I 
feel  at  that  pinnacle — just  as  if  I  could  fly.  You 
liked  it  ? "  she  asked. 

"  Yes  !  But  I  'd  rather  trust  myself  to  a  comfort 
able  pair  of  wings  than  to  Torpedo  or  Apache  if  I 
had  to  come  down  again.  Still  if  you  asked  me  to 
come  again  I  'd  corne — yes,  even  unconditionally." 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  it  was  dead  easy?  Why, 
you  can  drive  an  ambulance  down  there.  Some 
times  the  government  mules  fall  off,  but  they  pull 
themselves  together  at  the  bottom,  and  smile,  that 's 
all." 

"  It  was  nothing,  then  ?  " 

"  Nothing  worth  speaking  of,  but  you  're  no 
slouch." 

They  were  standing  in  an  alcove  of  the  cliff,  and 
the  walls  seemed  to  topple  together  at  the  height 
from  which  they  had  descended,  like  a  trap  which 
might  at  any  moment  snap  and  close  against  the  light 
of  day.  Some  rays  of  sunshine  slanted  in  and  played 
among  the  delicate  quivering  leaves  of  the  cotton- 
woods  with  light  fingers,  and  burnished  the  clear 
stream  flowing  through  the  sand  in  the  bed  of  the 
canon. 

"  There  's  nothing  like  this  in  England,  is  there  ? " 
she  asked,  with  a  plaintive  note  of  appeal. 

"  Nothing." 

"  Yet  if  Jim  were  here  and  you  spoke  to  him  about 
it,  all  he  would  do  would  be  to  talk  about  England. 
1  Oh,  you  should  see  this,  that,  or  the  other,  in  Eng 
land.'  I  get  tired  of  it.  I  tell  you  he 's  a  crank. 

42 


How  7y$on  Came  Home 


And  he 's  so  unreasonable  !  If  he  'd  wait  till  next 
year  father  and  I  could  go  with  him." 

"  I  feel  embarrassed.  I  feel  as  though  /  were 
being  impeached — held  up  as  Jim's  alter  ego.  See  " 
— he  touched  them  as  he  named  them — "  Jim's  cap, 
Jim's  coat,  Jim's  trousers,  Jim's  shirt,  Jim's  cigarette 
— I  'm  endowed  with  part  of  his  identity.  Now,  if  I 
were  Jim,  all  Jim — not  an  alter  ego — I  'd  wait  for 
you." 

She  looked  at  him  saucily.  "  Yes,  but  you  're  not 
Jim ;  not  a  little  bit  Jim." 

She  was  remounting  when  the  loose  stones  slid 
under  Apache's  hoofs  and  he  slid  away  from  her 
down  the  trail  before  she  had  regained  her  seat.  She 
quickly  released  her  foot  from  the  stirrup,  but 
stumbled  backward  into  Glynne's  arms. 

Her  first  thought  was  for  the  horse,  but  Apache 
stood  looking  up  and  winking  his  ears  a  few  feet  be 
low,  evidently  waiting  for  her  to  come  to  him  and 
reproaching  her  for  the  mishap. 

"  Good  boy !  Good  boy ! "  she  called. 

Glynne  still  held  her,  though  his  support  was  super 
fluous,  and  for  an  exquisite  moment  of  tremor,  dur 
ing  which  her  attention  was  directed  to  Apache,  he 
pressed  her  against  him. 

Nona's  upper  lip  had  a  little  twist  in  the  middle 
like  a  bow  which  some  day,  somewhere,  some  man 
would  kiss.  Why  not  this  man  now  ?  Tyson  ?  Ah ! 
But — what  damned  folly  ! 

She  plucked  herself  away  from  him  and  faced 
him. 

"  Why,  you  look  dizzy  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Let  me 
help  you." 

The  bottom  was  not  far  below  now,  and  reaching 

43 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


it  soon  they  sat  down  on  a  boulder  by  the  stream  and 
gazed  up  at  the  purple  walls  and  buttresses,  and  the 
arch  of  blue  sky.  A  slant  of  sun  poured  down  upon 
them  like  a  flaming  sword,  and  brought  into  relief 
the  spires  and  turrets  which  had  been  splintered  from 
the  mural  masses. 

"  I  say,  if  we  only  had  some  tea !  "  he  exclaimed, 
with  restored  gaiety. 

"  Tea  ?  What  do  you  want  with  tea  ? "  she  asked 
blankly. 

"  Afternoon  tea,  do  n't  you  know,  is  part  of  the 
Englishman's  religion.  People  in  England  walk, 
ride,  row,  climb  mountains  and  play  golf  and  croquet 
to  one  end,  one  goal — tea.  They  think  they  are  toil 
ing  for  views,  or  the  game,  but  their  real  object  is 
tea  and  thin  bread-and-butter." 

"  How  funny !  Jim  does  n't  care  for  tea.  He 
likes  mint  juleps — strong.  I  can  mix  them  just  the 
way  he  and  father  likes  them." 

The  ascent  to  the  plain  on  the  other  side  was  ac 
complished  without  difficulty,  as  it  led  up  a  wide 
bench  with  an  easy  gradient ;  and  a  mile  beyond  the 
top  they  reached  the  fort,  one  of  the  last  of  the 
old  frontier  barracks  of  fragile  adobe,  brown,  one- 
storied,  quadrangular,  and  primitive  in  accommo 
dation,  with  the  flag  purring  in  fluent  beauty 
from  a  white  eagle-crested  staff  in  the  centre  of  the 
interior  court.  A  few  Indians  and  their  squaws, 
muffled  up  in  the  oriental  splendour  of  their  Kavajo 
blankets,  squatted  and  puffed  corn-husk  cigarettes 
and  fixed  envious  eyes  on  the  canteen,  near  the  en 
trance,  and  Glynne  was  interested  in  the  soldiers 
who  were  loitering  about  in  high  boots,  flannel 
shirts  and  breeches,  and  wide-brimmed  hats,  slim, 

44 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


lithe  and  brawny,  like  men  of  wire  and  steel  and 
leather. 

Nona  at  once  took  him  to  the  colonel's  quarters, 
and  there  before  the  door  in  easy  chairs  and  ham 
mocks  were  gathered  on  variegated  blankets  and 
buffalo  robes,  Colonel  Morrison,  Mrs.  Morrison,  Mrs. 
Dennison,  Major  Hargreaves  and  Captain  Scott. 
Nona  was  patted  on  the  cheek  by  the  colonel,  kissed 
and  embraced  by  the  women,  and  saluted  in  military 
fashion  by  the  major  and  the  captain,  and  then  when 
she  and  Glynne  were  seated  and  he  had  been  intro 
duced,  the  talk  turned  on  Tyson. 

"  He 's  really  going,  is  he  ? "  said  the  colonel. 
"  Tell  him  I  '11  give  him  some  letters  to  the  Embassy 
in  London.  Jack  Corbin,  the  military  attache  there, 
will  like  him,  and  may  be  of  use  to  him." 

"  Tell  him  I  got  the  check  for  the  orphanage  from 
him ;  he  'd  no  right  to  send  so  much,"  said  the  col 
onel's  wife. 

"  Tell  him  that  every  time  he  writes  to  me  I  wish 
his  French  was  as  good  as  his  heart  is  big,"  said  Mrs. 
Dennison. 

"  Tell  him,"  the  colonel  continued,  "  that  when 
those  cigars  of  his  are  finished  I  shall  have  to  quit 
smoking,  because  every  other  weed  will  taste  like 
Connecticut  cabbage."  " 

"  Tell  him,"  said  the  major,  winking  at  the  captain, 
"  that  his  cologne  is  elegant,  and  that  we  Jd  like  to 
bathe  in  it  night  and  morning." 

"  Tell  him,"  said  the  colonel,  "  that  if  he  sends 
any  more  fire-water  to  Fort  Navajo  there  will  be  a 
court  martial." 

Glynne  was  smiling  impartially  and  holding  him 
self  with  modest  diffidence. 

45 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

"  Oh,  I  forgot,"  cried  Nona.  "  Mr.  Glynne  wants 
some  tea." 

The  three  officers  rose  to  their  feet,  and  became 
rigid. 

"  Tea ! "  cried  the  colonel. 

"  Tea  ! "  repeated  the  major,  in  a  deeper  voice. 

"  Tea !  "  wailed  the  captain,  in  a  vocal  crescendo 
of  unbelief  and  panic. 

"  Come  on ! "  they  chorused,  and  dragging  him 
from  his  chair  they  led  him  across  the  quadrangle, 
and  disappeared  with  him  through  a  doorway  on  the 
other  side  of  the  court  yard.  "  You  shall  have  some 
tea ! " 

When  the  men  were  gone  Nona  confided  to  the 
women  the  story  of  Glynne's  accident,  and  of  Tyson's 
growing  friendship  with  him. 

"  Well,  I  always  say  that  English  people  are  at 
tractive — that  is,  the  men,"  said  Mrs.  Dennison,  who 
with  an  experience  extending  from  frontier  posts  in 
Alaska  to  legations  and  embassies  in  Europe  and 
Asia,  was  listened  to  as  an  indisputable  arbiter.  "  He 
is  certainly  charming,"  she  went  on,  "  and  that  smile 
of  his  would  dissolve  an  ice-berg.  These  young  Eng 
lishmen  have  a  really  excellent  manner  and  appear 
ance,  and  much  more  of  the  old-fashioned  courtier 
about  them  than  our  young  men ;  our  boys  are  too 
blunt,  too  abrupt,  and  now  that  they  shave  so  much 
they  look  so  jowly,  so  much  like  prize-fighters  and 
actors." 

"  Mr.  Glynne  doesn't  look  at  his  best  now,"  Nona 
admitted. 

"  He  is  very  good-looking,  dear." 

"  You  see,  I  do  n't  know  what  to  make  of  him,  and 
Jim 's  such  a  fool  about  him,  so  I  gave  him  Torpedo 

46 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


for  a  mount  and  brought  him  down  the  canon  by 
the  Devil's  Trapeze." 

"  What ! " 

"  Yes,  I  did.  I  suppose  that  when  we  get  home 
father — Jim — will  give  me  h — 3 

Mrs.  Dennison  shrieked  and  put  her  hand  over 
Nona's  mouth,  and  the  word  got  no  further  than  the 
first  letter. 

"  I  do  n't  care,"  said  Nona  defiantly.  "  The  Bible 's 
full  of  it." 

"  Glynne,  Glynne,"  mused  Mrs.  Dennison.  "  Did 
you  say  that  he  is  a  relation  of  Lord  Langdale, 
dear  ? "' 

"  He  says  he  is.  I  do  n't  know.  We  only  know 
what  he  says." 

"  How  very  curious !"  said  the  colonel's  wife. 
"  We  have  an  English  lady  visiting  us  now,  Mrs. 
Dunmail,  the  wife  of  an  English  general.  Only  this 
morning  she  happened  to  speak  of  Lord  Langdale. 
Lieutenant  Belknap  has  taken  her  over  to  the  pueblo. 
They'll  be  back  soon." 

"  We  can't  wait,"  replied  Nona,  "  but  we  are  going 
back  that  way.  I  promised  him  I  'd  show  him  the 
ruin  on  the  way  home." 

By  a  muddy  river  of  the  consistency  and  colour  of 
cafe-au-lait  stands  a  pueblo  far  older  than  that  near 
Sneba,  far  older  than  any  other  in  the  south-western 
country,  the  remains  of  a  civilized  settlement  which 
has  left  no  other  record  than  this  as  an  example  of  its 
architecture.  From  afar  it  looks  like  a  bare  and  mas 
sive  mesa  or  a  butte,  and  within  its  walls  can  be 
counted  over  a  hundred  chambers,  tier  on  tier,  and  an 
altar  on  which,  presumably,  burned  the  sacred  fires  of 
Montezuma.  As  in  the  pueblo  at  Sheba,  the  only  ac- 

47 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


cess  to  the  successive  stories  is  from  within  by  ladder 
from  the  interior  court,  and  all  apertures  for  light 
and  air  also  face  the  court,  the  external  walls  being 
solid  and  eyeless,  so  that  in  any  siege  the  inhabitants 
expected  or  endured  they  could  conceal  their  move 
ments  and  shut  themselves  up  as  in  a  box,  with  only 
the  lid  open  to  the  sky.  The  walls  are  as  thick  as 
those  of  a  fortress,  and  instead  of  being  of  the  friable, 
easily  moulded  adobe  they  are  of  masonry  skilfully 
set  slab  on  slab,  without  mortar,  though  every  joint, 
chink  and  cranny  is  filled  with  smaller  slabs  that  fit 
like  a  mosaic.  Twenty-five  years  ago  fragments  of 
pottery  were  plentiful  within  and  without  the  walls, 
decorated  with  bands  and  scrolls  of  blue  and  red,  and 
in  some  instances  shaped  like  the  birds  and  beasts  of 
the  plains  and  the  mountains.  These  and  the  house 
itself  are  the  only  vestiges,  the  only  memorials,  of  the 
people  that  lived  here  and  derived  sustenance  from 
the  sterile,  blighted  land  in  which  there  is  now 
neither  fuel,  drinkable  water,  nor  anything  edible. 
Without  history,  bare,  unsheltered  by  vine  or  moss, 
grey  as  though  charred  by  fire,  the  pueblo  is  like  a 
a  huge  stone  coffin,  as  silent  and  as  mysterious  as  the 
Sphinx  or  the  Pyramids. 

An  army  ambulance,  which,  by  the  way,  is  a  vehi 
cle  of  general  utility  on  the  plains,  serving  on  occasion 
as  the  state  carriage  of  the  commanding  officer,  and 
for  as  many  odd  jobs  as  a  hack  and  an  express  waggon 
combined,  was  drawn  up  in  the  shade,  and  the  driver, 
with  his  broad  hat  tipped  over  his  nose,  was  braced  in 
sleep  across  the  front  seat. 

"I'll  wait  here,"  said  Nona  to  Glynne  when  they 
arrived.  "  Do  n't  be  long." 

And  Glynne  passed  through  what  had  been  the 
48 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


sole  entrance  of  the  pueblo.  She  had  not  told  him 
of  Mrs.  Dunmail  and  the  lieutenant,  and  he  had  not 
asked  why  the  ambulance  was  waiting  there.  He 
picked  his  way  among  the  loose  stones  and  earth, 
and  climbed  up  the  shattered  end  of  one  of  the  walls 
which  rose  from  the  level  to  the  first  tier  of  the  ter 
raced  buildings. 

Then  he  heard  voices,  a  man's  and  a  woman's,  in 
another  part  of  the  ruin,  and  though  the  woman  lin 
gered  out  of  sight  he  saw  the  man  in  a  blue  uniform 
pass  out,  and  heard  him  hail  Nona  familiarly.  From 
another  wall  to  which  he  climbed  wearily  the  woman 
was  visible,  loitering  in  one  of  the  cubicles,  and  ab 
sently  feeling  with  her  fingers  the  flaked  stone  which 
filled  the  crevices. 

There  was  something  spectral  about  her  in  the 
dusk  and  silence,  and  yet  she  was  too  palpable  and 
modern  to  sustain  the  illusion  of  a  phantasm  for  more 
than  a  moment.  Her  dress  was  of  some  creamy 
white  material  from  head  to  foot,  and  as  he  looked 
closer  he  could  see  that  the  pallor  of  her  face  was  in 
tensified  by  the  darkness  of  her  hair  and  her  eyes.  She 
was  young,  not  more  than  thirty,  and  carried  herself 
with  a  sorrowful  grace.  In  the  shade  she  stood  out 
luminously  as  if  bathed  in  phosphorescence  like  the 
picture  of  a  queen  he  vaguely  remembered,  and  as 
he  gazed  the  association  of  the  picture  forced  the  re 
cognition  into  greater  definiteness. 

He  watched  her  without  moving  himself :  he 
watched  her  so  intently  that  he  did  not  know  his 
tongue  was  dry  in  his  mouth,  and  his  face  as  blanched 
as  hers,  and  beaded  with  moisture. 

She  sat  down  and  read  a  letter,  which  she  after 
wards  replaced  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress,  and  then 
D  49 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


he  saw  her  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes.  His 
impulse  was  to  avoid  her,  to  drop  to  the  ground,  to 
hide  himself  in  one  of  the  shadowy  angles  of  the 
wall ;  but  his  foot  displaced  a  stone  and  sent  it  rat 
tling  down,  and  she  lifted  her  eyes  and  discovered 
him,  staggering  as  she  recognized  him. 

He  descended  and  advanced  to  meet  her.  She  put 
out  her  arms  to  him,  but  his  face,  his  attitude,  re 
pulsed  her. 

"  Julian  !  Julian  !  "  she  cried. 

"  What  miracle  has  brought  you  here,  Ethel  ? " 

"  Mrs.  Dennison — at  the  fort — I  met  her  in  New 
York — an  old  friend.  Oh,  Julian,  why  did  you  leave 
me  like  that  ?  And  you,  dear,  how  came  you  here  ? " 

"  Trying  to  forget ;  trying  to  begin  anew,"  he 
sighed. 

"  We  can  begin  anew,  we  can,  both  of  us,  dear," 
she  urged,  putting  her  hands  on  his  shoulders,  and 
lifting  her  own  moist  eyes  to  his  that  were  cold. 
"  Gerald  is  dead.  Have  you  not  heard  ?  Yes,  dead. 
Oh,  poor  Gerald!  " 

"Dead!  "  A  dark  surmise  crossed  Glynne's  face, 
and  he  shuddered.  "  Not  suicide  ?  " 

"  No,  no !  He  was  killed  in  the  charge  at — " 

"  He  meant  to  be  killed.  You  may  call  it  what 
you  like,"  he  said  resentfully,  after  a  breathless 
pause.  "  You  saw  him  before  he  went  away  ? " 

"  Never  after  he  found  out  that  we — He  would  n't 
see  me ;  he  would  n't  write.  Poor  Gerald !  " 

"  Poor  Gerald ! "  Glynne  repeated  bitterly. 

"  But  we  are  free  now,  dear,  free,"  she  persisted. 

"Free?  Never  less  free!  Free  ?  Good  God  .' 
Ethel !  Can't  you  see  ?  Are  you  blind  ?  That  man 
separates  us  now  as  in  his  life  he  could  not  do." 

50 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  You  mean  that  you  will  not — that  we  cannot  be 
together  any  more  ? " 

He  took  her  hands  off  his  shoulder  and  gently 
pushed  her  away.  "  Hush  !  There  is  Nona  calling — 
the  girl  who  is  with  me.  Not  a  word  about  this 
meeting  to  anybody.  Go — go — go — go  at  once.  I 
will  write.  Yes,  I  will  see  you  again,  but  go  ! " 

He  dropped  on  to  a  stone  and  held  his  head  in  his 
palms.  Through  closed  eyes  he  saw  Gerald  Dun- 
mail  plainly,  Gerald  horsed  and  in  tattered  uniform 
in  the  flame  and  splutter  of  battle,  heard  him  laugh 
fiercely  as  he  plunged  forward  through  smoke  and 
blood,  and  then  saw  him  fling  up  his  arms  and  reel 
from  his  saddle,  smiling  gently  at  him — at  him,  Julian 
Glynne. 

Nona  was  standing  over  him.  "  Did  n't  you  see 
Mrs.  Dunmail  ?  She 's  just  gone.  She  knows  you, 
so  Mrs.  Morrison  said,  w  hat  a  curious  woman  ;  she 's 
like  a  ghost.  Why,  what 's  the  matter  with  you  ? 
Are  you  ill  ?  Come  along.  Let 's  get  home." 

Nona's  conscience  was  full  of  stings,  and  her  re 
morse  prompted  her  to  do  all  she  could  to  cheer  her 
companion  as  they  rode  across  the  darkening  plain 
by  the  direct  trail  which  avoided  the  canon.  She 
chatted  with  him,  praised  his  courage,  mimicked 
Tyson  and  Chidsey  for  him,  and  sang  droning  little 
Pueblo  songs  to  amuse  him  ;  and  he  smiled  and  pre 
tended  to  be  gay,  but  the  smile — what  was  he  smil 
ing  at?  He  was  smiling  back  through  clouds  of 
smoke  and  fire  at  Gerald. 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  V.     Tyson's  Dreams  of  Home 


WHEN  Nona  and  Glynne  reached  Sheba 
the  sky  was  full  of  stars,  and  Tyson 
was    pacing    the    lawn,    pipe   in   his 
mouth  and  hands  in  his  pockets,  wait 
ing  for  them.     They  could  hear  him 
singing  in  the  way  he  had,  changing 
the  key  from  verse  to  verse,  and  ranging  from  fal 
setto  to  the  deep  baritone  of  his  natural  voice.     Now 
it  was  "  Early  One  Morning,"  and  then  "  The  Lass  of 
Richmond  Hill,"  now  "  The  North  Country  Maid," 
who  to  London  had  strayed,  and   then   "  Barbara 
Allen,"  followed  by  "  The  Vicar  of  Bray."     When 
the  belated  ones  came  slowly  up  to  the  porch,  it 
was  to  the  jocund  call  of  "  Lasses  and  Lads." 

Nona  sighed  with  pleasurable  relief  as  she  retired, 
and  Glynne  was  pale,  so  pale  that  Tyson  held  him 
under  the  hall  light  by  both  shoulders  and  looked 
apprehensively  into  his  face. 

u  Well,  you  must  have  done  the  whole  thing, — 
taken  in  the  whole  show,"  said  Tyson.  "  That  girl 's 
a  terror." 

"  Oh,  no  !  She 's  all  right,  as  you  say.  I  'm  a  bit 
tired,  and  .  .  .  No,  nothing  to  eat  now,  thank 

52 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


you,  but  a  brandy  and  soda ;  yes,  I  ?11  have  a  brandy 
and  soda." 

"  Come  right  in,"  said  Tyson,  leading  the  way  to 
his  "  den."  «  Sit  right  there." 

He  put  Glynne  into  a  soft,  wide-armed  chair,  seated 
himself  opposite,  and  tossed  another  log  into  the  pine- 
wood  fire.  "  Sit  right  there,  and  let  ?s  talk  about 
England." 

Ihe  lustrous  red  walls  above  the  ivory  white  book 
shelves,  which  held  some  good  editions  of  English 
classics,  were  pregnant  with  texts  for  the  topic,  and 
through  the  wreaths  of  his  smoke  Tyson  looked  with 
the  half-closed  eyes  of  clairvoyance  on  his  pictures, 
and  beyond  them  to  the  scenes  they  depicted,  his 
imagination  endowing  the  prints  with  the  tints  and 
movements  of  various  seasons,  the  breath  of  life, 
and  the  message  of  the  senses  in  colour  and  scent. 

He  saw  the  Wear  creeping  with  rippling  feet 
around  the  bluffs  of  Durham,  the  grey  towers  of 
the  cathedral  and  the  buttressed  walls  of  the  uni 
versity  high  above  the  cataract  of  foliage ;  he  could 
hear  the  rooks  jarring  over  the  battlements,  and  the 
surpliced  boys  chanting,  "Give  peace  in  our  time, 
OLord!" 

And  here  down  a  vista  in  a  hill  of  grey-columned 
beeches  lay  Selborne  the  smallest  of  villages,  a  jewelled 
string  of  thatched  and  half-timbered  pink  and  white 
cottages,  hedged  with  hawthorn  and  scarlet  fuchsias, 
each  in  its  own  sweet-smelling,  embowered  garden, 
with  the  ancient  manor  house  and  the  old  church 
and  its  silent  moss-grown  graveyard,  crouching 
among  yews,  oaks  and  elms.  The 'people  came  to 
his  vision,  simple,  amiable,  slow-footed,  low-voiced, 
driving  their  flocks  and  herds,  toiling  in  their  fields, 

53 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


and  gossiping  at  their  gates  until  the  twilight  caught 
the  village  in  its  shroud,  and,  after  a  desperate  strug 
gle  of  the  roses  to  burn  a  deeper  crimson,  and  pierce 
the  gloom  with  a  more  luminous  white,  the  night 
picked  up  the  corners  and  put  out  the  last  ray  of 
the  early  bed-time  candles. 

All  the  pictures  on  the  walls  were  of  England  in 
some  form  of  its  sedate  beauty:  its  calm  rivers; 
its  cloistral  groves ;  its  deep-grooved  flowery  lanes, 
and  its  peaceful  hamlets.  In  the  contemplation  of 
them  in  his  exile,  Tyson  yearned  to  be  in  the  scenes 
themselves,  to  see  them  and  to  breathe  them  through 
the  senses,  and  not  in  the  unsubstantial  play  of  the 
imagination.  They  were  but  dreams  to  him  so  far, 
for  he  was  a  town-bred  lad,  and  had  seldom  been 
farther  afield  than  the  outskirts  of  his  native  county : 
the  excursion  to  Langdale  had  been  his  longest  jour 
ney.  .  .  . 

Then  as  he  stared  into  the  sparks  and  flames  and 
the  rolling  smoke  on  the  hearth  another  picture  ap 
peared  :  Winter  in  a  provincial  town  ;  muddy  streets ; 
sooty  houses  ;  rain  and  wind  ;  cold  without  frost  or 
snow ;  puddles  from  gutter  to  gutter ;  blinking  gas- 
lamps  and  creepy  rays  of  light  from  gin-palaces 
f roping  like  fingers  across  the  wet  and  mud  for 
Ithy  treasure.  A  shivering  boy  leading  a  little  girl 
by  the  hand,  both  soaked,  both  hungry,  both  jostled, 
both  very,  very  cold.  .  .  .  The  log  split  in  the 
middle,  and  the  picture  flew  up  the  chimney  in  sparks. 

"  You  seem  drowsy,  old  man,"  said  Glynne. 

"  I  ?  Oh  no !  Not  a  bit,"  cried  Tyson  coming 
out  of  his  dream.  "  I  was  down  the  mine  all  the 
afternoon.  Things  are  looking  splendidly ;  there  '11  be 
an  extra  dividend,  sure."  He  paused  thoughtfully  and 

54 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


then  went  on  with  enthusiasm :  "  But  what  I  'm  think 
ing  of  is  being  back  in  England.  Say,  Glynne,  I  'm 
not  up  to  the  quality.  I  '11  be  making  all  kinds  of  mis 
takes,  and  they  '11  laugh  at  me.  I  've  got  no  society 
manners,  though  there  is  some  good  blood  in  our  family. 
I  don't  care  about  meeting  all  those  swells  you  speak 
about,  Lord  Langdale  and  Lady  Cheam,  your  sister, 
and  the  rest — I  'm  afraid  of  them,  and  that 's  a  fact. 
But  the  country,  the  fields  and  the  field-paths,  and 
the  little  villages,  and  Oxford  and  Cambridge  (Lord ! 
If  I  could  only  have  gone  to  one  of  the  universities ! 
I  dreamed  of  it  when  my  stomach  was  empty  and 
my  feet  were  wet),  yes,  they  are  what  I  'm  pining  for, 
and  the  good  common  people,  the  children  with 
golden  hair  and  blue  pinafores,  and  the  rosy  old 
women  knitting  under  the  rambler  roses  in  their 
porches !  I  '11  be  too  late  for  the  hawthorn  and  the 
laburnum,  but  the  limes  will  be  in  bloom.  Ah,  I 
can  smell  them  now  !  Of  course  the  hawthorn 's  more 
beautiful,  but  there 's  nothing  to  beat  the  scent  of 
the  limes  :  it  seems  to  draw  out  one's  soul." 

Glynne  rose  and  patted  him  on  the  shoulder.  A 
clock  was  ticking  and  the  fire  roaring.  "  They  will 
like  you  over  there ;  it  is  impossible  not  to  like  you, 
Tyson,  but  will  you  like  them  ?  Do  n't  hold  yourself 
too  lightly,  do  n't  be  afraid  of  yourself." 

"I  can't  stand  any  patronizing,  I  can  tell  you  that, 
lord  or  no  lord,"  Tyson  declared  decisively. 

"  You  will  find  the  best  of  us — of  them — very  con 
siderate,"  Glynne  continued  leisurely.  "  The  best  of 
the  upper  classes  are  unpretentious,  and  though  they 
~_e  not  heedless  of  birth  and  pedigree  they  seldom  let 
their  pride  in  such  matters  affect  their  conduct ;  they 
are  shy  of  their  distinction,  and  a  little  afraid  of  it. 

55 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


This  is  not  true  of  all.  There  are  some  louts  like 
Kingswold,  the  Duke  of  Kingswold :  he  is  a  survival 
of  the  mediaeval  man  of  privilege,  a  solemn,  surly, 
supercilious  bully,  who  despises  everybody,  and  thinks 
the  crown  itself  parvenu.  Perhaps  he  is  not  alto 
gether  wrong  in  that:  royalty  nowadays  is  very 
queer,  indiscriminate,  unselect.  In  private  it  has  no 
conceptions  and  no  tastes  higher  than  those  of  the 
suburban  villa,  or  of  Earl's  Court  and  Bayswater, 
and  it  is  always  begging  or  borrowing.  Look  at  old 
Mercia,  the  Duke  of  Mercia  :  he  borrows  fivers  from 
girls  in  the  music-halls  and  actors  in  pot-house  clubs ; 
you  can't  trust  him  with  your  cigar-box,  for  if  you 
let  him  have  it  he  takes  out  handfuls  and  at  the  same 
times  re-lights  an  old  stump  that  he  had  been  saving 
in  his  waistcoat  pocket,  and  I  believe  if  his  other 
pockets  had  rubber  linings  he  'd  empty  the  decanter 
into  them  whenever  he  is  offered  a  drink.  Beware 
of  him,  Tyson,  when  you  are  launched  in  society  ;  the 
confidence  man  sometimes  wears  a  coronet." 

Tyson  listened  dubiously.  Glynne's  voice  was  a 
little  strained  and  bitter.  Was  he  quite  fair  in  what 
he  was  saying? 

"  Launched  in  society !  "  Tyson  repeated.  "  Come, 
Glynne,  no  nonsense.  I  'm  no  society  man,  and 
never  shall  be."  Nevertheless  the  idea  had  furtive 
charms  for  him. 

"  You  can  succeed  if  you  care  to.  Money  goes  a 
long  way  when  it  is  wisely  spent,  in  London :  it  is 
like  the  trumpet  of  a  herald  calling  for  capitulation ; 
one  blast  and  down  come  the  gates.  Look  at  Sir 
John  Titter :  he  is  the  apotheosis  of  vulgarity,  and 
combines  in  his  trade  every  trade  derided  in  novels 
and  farcical  comedy,  butter,  gin,  pork  and  soap — an 

56 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


illiterate  boor,  but  closer  than  the  Prime  Minister  to 
certain  illustrious  personages.  Look  at  Dicky  Lans 
ing,  the  American,  a  cad  in  dress  and  manners,  with 
a  voice  like  a  goat's  and  fingers  bejewelled  from 
knuckles  to  nails.  You  know  him.  He  made  his 


way  by  giving  stock-market  tips  that  turned  out  well 
to  duchesses,  and  now  the  duchesses  take  him  out 
with  their  poodles  for  airings  in  the  park.  Then 
there 's  Sir  Peter  Grooby,  who  owns  nearly  half  of 
all  the  miserable  gin-palaces  in  the  slums  of  provin 
cial  towns,  and  whose  opulence  thrives  on  the  vice  of 
our  fellow-countrymen  :  he  is  father-in-law  to  three 
of  the  oldest  peerages,  he  whose  crest  should  be  a 
drunken  hag  and  a  gin-bottle.  Do  you  hold  your 
self  inferior  to  such  people,  Tyson  ? " 

"  You  're  exaggerating.  Your  liver  7s  out  of  order. 
You're  an  old  cynic,  that's  what  you  are,"  said 
Tyson,  staunch  in  faith. 

"  You  have  personality  to  prosper  you  as  well  as 
money,"  Glynne  went  on,  "  and  you  can  do  what 
you  like.  At  the  outset  you  may  meet  some  rebuffs 
but  you  must  meet  insolence  with  insolence,  play  the 
paradox,  shrug  your  shoulders  at  convention,  and 
shock  people  by  your  originality.  Avoid  diffidence, 
and  be  as  arrogant  as  possible,  especially  with  the 
middle  classes ;  they  are  beneath  contempt,  know  it, 
and  do  not  mind.  Above  all,  be  careful  to  conceal 
this  passion  of  yours  for  England  ;  it  is  out  of  date, 
not  good  form,  and  would  be  considered  banal. 

"  There,"  said  Glynne,  in  conclusion,  "  I  have 
added  to  your  knowledge  from  experiences  and  con 
victions  of  my  own,  and  feel  as  if  I  had  been  writing 
a  supplementary  chapter  to  Lord  Chesterfield's  Let 
ters  to  his  Son" 

57 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Glynne  shook  off  his  depression.  The  glow  and 
crackle  of  the  logs  on  the  hearth,  the  pleasant  fatigue 
slowly  passing  in  the  warmth  and  ease  of  his  arm 
chair,  the  pictures  and  the  books  and  other  luxuries 
of  the  "den"  exorcised  the  memory  of  the  pale 
woman,  and  he  could  jest  with  Tyson  and  laugh 
without  pinch  or  prick  of  conscience,  and  without 
wincing. 

"  Of  course  the  first  thing  I  've  got  to  do  is  to  look 
for  Bessie,"  said  Tyson,  "  and  everything  will  depend 
on  whether  I  find  her  or  not.  Poor  girl,  I  wonder 
what  has  become  of  her!  You  remember  how  I 
thought  it  was  Bessie  when  I  awoke  at  the  spring  and 
found  Nona  standing  there?  Ah,  so  many  years 
have  passed  that  I  'm  afraid — afraid  ! " 

"  Oh,  a  girl  like  that  often  falls  into  the  hands  of 
benevolent  persons,"  said  Glynne,  though  his  thoughts 
dwelt  on  sinister  possibilities  that  Tyson  could  not 
contemplate.  "  She  may  have  been  adopted  by  some 
body  ;  she  may  have —  But  cheer  up,  dear  old  boy. 
Here 's  success  to  your  quest !  I  hope  you  will  find 
her  well  and  happy,  a  sister  to  be  proud  of,  as  amiable 
as  yourself  and  as  beautiful  as  Miss  Plant.  As  I  have 
said,  whatever  I  can  do— 

"  Look  here,  Glynne,  you  are  coming  with  me," 
cried  Tyson  impulsively.  "  I  want  you  to ;  it  will  be 
a  help  to  me.  Yes,  you  're  coming  !  We  can  be  in 
New  York  in  three  days,  and  then  I  '11  blow  you  off 
at  Delmonico's  and  we*'ll  sail  in  the  fastest  ship  that 
goes,  and  in  the  best  rooms  she's  got.  .  .  .  Six 
days  of  the  old  Atlantic  and  then !  If  the  season 's 
behindhand  there  may  be  a  bit  of  hawthorn  left ; 
but  no,  I  guess  it's  too  late  for  that." 

Glynne  shook  his  head.    "  Impossible." 

58 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

"  Why  impossible  ?  Can't  afford  it  ?  I  '11  lend  you 
whatever  you  need." 

"  What  a  generous  soul  you  are ! " 

"  Or  see  here !  I  '11  buy  some  shares  of  Sheba 
for  you  to-morrow;  I'll  provide  the  margin,  and 
take  care  of  the  stock  for  you.  It 's  a  sure  thing  : 
you'll  get  five  points  profit  within  a  week,  and 
then  you  '11  not  need  to  borrow.  How  will  that  suit 
you?" 

"  I  may  go  as  far  as  New  York  with  you,  but  for 
the  present  I  cannot  return  to  England.  There's 
a  reason,  Tyson,  a  good  reason:  I  am  under  a 
cloud." 

Glynne  looked  grave,  and  his  head  drooped ;  no 
smile  remained  in  his  face.  Tyson  was  troubled,  but 
unsuspicious  of  anything  serious.  His  confidence  in 
his  friend  rejected  sinister  surmises :  Glynne  was  too 
sensitive,  after  the  manner  of  his  class,  and  viewed 
his  imprudence  too  grievously. 

"  I  'm  sorry  to  hear  that,"  said  Tyson,  who  was  in 
disposed  to  question,  and  ready  with  absolution  and 
remission  for  any  confession  that  he  might  hear. 
"  Some  foolishness,  I  suppose.  Oh,  well,  we  all  make 
mistakes  sometimes." 

"  Oh,  Tyson,  why  is  the  world  full  of  women  ? " 

And  Tyson,  the  soul  of  honour,  the  punctilious  and 
reverential  among  women,  sophisticated  himself  for 
his  friend,  and  laughed  and  made  light  of  the  aber 
ration  hinted  at.  "  You  're  a  sad  dog,  Julian,"  he 
said,  slapping  Glynne  on  the  shoulder  with  a  jocularity 
not  altogether  spontaneous,  "  but  if  the  world  did 
begin  with  one  women  it  need  n't  end  in  the  same 
way.  I  'm  no  Puritan.  You  take  it  too  seriously, 
old  fellow  ;  you  're  not  going  to  keep  yourself  out  of 

59 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


England  for  ever  because  you — because  you  got 
rattled  by  a  pretty  woman  ? "' 

"  Not  for  ever,  but  I  cannot  go  back  now.  I  have 
things  to  see  to.  While  you  are  there,  before  you 
come  back — yes,  we  must  meet  in  England." 

"  And  you  '11  come  to  New  York  with  me  anyway. 
I  '11  want  some  coaching  to  prepare  me  for  my  debut 
as  a  society  man,  eh  ?  You  '11  have  to  give  me  wrinkles 
in  the  art  of  tying  the  cravat  and  the  cut  of  my  coat 
— a  sort  of  dress  rehearsal.  I  must  n't  disgrace  you 
when  I  present  those  letters  to  Lord  Langdale  and 
Lady  Cheam." 

Glynne  went  to  bed,  and  Tyson,  lighting  a  fresh 
cigar,  passed  out  to  the  lawn  and  looked  at  the  stars, 
which  were  shaking  like  lilies  in  the  wind  and  rain 
ing  their  silver  on  the  upheaved  buttes  and  the  slum 
bering  mysterious  plain.  Nona  slipped  out,  and  pass 
ing  her  arm  through  his,  rubbed  her  cheek  against 
his  sleeve.  She  was  warm  and  fragrant  as  she  pressed 
against  him,  and  when  he  smiled  on  her  he  saw  that 
her  face  was  sad. 

"  I  see  nothing;  of  you  now,  Jim,  since  that  Eng 
lishman  came.  Don't  you  care  for  me  anymore? 
You  're  with  him  the  wnole  time." 

"Don't  be  a  child,  Nona.  Of  course  I  care  for 
you — just  as  much  as  ever." 

The  vagueness  disappointed  her.  "As  much  as 
ever."  No  more, — no  such  surging  of  the  heart  as  her 
own  heart  knew.  She  sighed  and  interlocked  her 
fingers  with  his.  "Don't  go,  Jim;  don't  go,"  she 
pleaded,  in  an  urgent  whisper.  "  I  want  you  to  sta}r. 
Stay  anyhow  till  next  year." 

He  met  the  pleading  with  impatience. 

"  I  'm  mean,  I  know  I  'm  mean,"  she  hurried  on.    "  I 

60 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


know  you  ought  to  go,  for  Bessie's  sake ;  but  come 
back  soon,  dear,  and  come  back  just  as  you  are,  not 
changed  a  little  bit.  You  like  me,  do  n't  you,  Jim  ? " 
she  cried  pathetically. 

"  Like  you  ? "  he  repeated.  "  I  adore  you,  and  you 
know  it."" 

Nona  shook  her  head,  and  was  not  convinced. 


61 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter    VI.     Some    Transactions    in 
Wall  Street 


A"1IYED  in  New  York,  Tyson  took  Glynne 
to  a  broker's  in  Wall  street,  where  the  well 
dressed,  extremely  prosperous  looking 
young  man  in  the  customers'  room  met 
them  with  an  effusive  welcome. 

Glynne  was  mystified.  His  eyes  wan 
dered  over  the  paraphernalia  of  the  room :  the  tickers 
delivering  with  a  squirrel-like  chatter  the  white  mo 
mentous  tape ;  the  numerous  telephones  in  constant  em 
ployment  on  the  young  man's  desk  and  elsewhere ;  the 
stooping  clerks  behind  their  brass  screens,  and  the 
customers  poring  over  the  fluctuating  records  of  the 
market.  One  sallow  man  with  a  droop  in  his  left 
eye,  which  he  strained  obliquely  on  the  tape,  was  ab 
surdly  like  a  many-wintered  crow  in  search  of  a  fat 
grub ;  another  with  a  snowy  beard  and  the  face  of  an 
archangelic  bishop,  studied  the  tape  with  the  raven 
ous  intensity  of  a  hungry  man.  From  time  to  time  the 
young  man  bawled  out  the  price  of  the  more  prom 
inent  stocks,  "MOP,"  « OLD  WOMAN,"  "GAS," 
and  when  the  tape  slackened  in  its  flow  under  the 
crystal  dome  of  the  recording  instrument,  told  sto- 

62 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


ries  of  what  happened  at  Mrs.  Yan  Corlear's  ball  last 
night  and  the  strange  goings-on  at  Bertie  Ganse- 
voort's  birthday  supper.  He  drew  out  a  box  of  ple 
thoric  cigars,  and  offered  them  to  Tyson. 

"  How  are  things  at  the  mine,  sir  ? "  he  asked  cau 
tiously. 

"  Oh,  the  mine  ?s  still  underground,"  Tyson  replied, 
with  an  impassive  face. 

Glynne  had  edged  to  one  of  the  "  tickers,"  and  was 
spell-bound  by  a  spurt  in  "  Sugar,"  which  rose  five 
points  in  five  minutes  and  continued  to  rise.  His 
mental  arithmetic  could  hardly  keep  pace  with  the 
seven  league  boots  of  its  advance,  and  the  "  ticker  " 
was  milling  gold  like  a  mint  for  those  who  had  bought 
or  were  buying  that  stock.  Five  more  were  added  to 
the  five  points,  and  the  ten  became  twenty.  Two 
hundred  shares  of  "  Sugar "  bought  when  Glynne 
and  Tyson  entered  the  office  would  at  this  moment 
show  a  profit  of  several  thousand  dollars ! 

Glynne  plucked  Tyson  by  the  sleeve  and  whispered, 
"  Look  at  Sugar !  Why  do  n't  you  buy  Sugar  ?  " 

"Come  away,  Julian.  Those  little  jaws  of  the 
ticker  bite  like  a  bull-dog,  and  the  poison  is  more 
fatal  than  hydrophobia— -I  ? — Oh,  I  Jve  been  inocu 
lated  for  it.  i  ou  Ve  about  the  same  chance  of  making 
money  playing  Poker  with  the  Senator  and  Nona  as 
you  have  in  this  game.  Nona 's  a  great  sport,  is  n't 
she  ? " 

They  went  out  into  the  noisy  street  of  high  build 
ings,  and  pushed  through  the  quick-footed,  sharp- 
faced  and  sharp-witted  throng,  the  raw-voiced  news 
boys,  the  catapultic  messengers,  the  scurrying  clerks 
and  brokers,  the  pedlars  of  cheap  wares  of  all  kinds, — 
shoe-laces,  collar-buttons,  neck-ties,  sandwiches,  ice- 

63 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


cream,  fruit  and  sausages.  The  bedouins  of  that 
neighbourhood  find  both  raiment  and  food  at  infini 
tesimal  cost  on  the  trays  and  push-carts  of  the  ped 
lars.  Trinity  chimes  were  ringing  "  Kock  of  Ages," 
and  the  sound  splashed  down  as  in  a  gale  of  wind 
and  sea,  split  and  torn,  but  persistent.  Half  way 
across  the  street  a  crowd  of  youngish  rather  shabby 
men  were  wrangling  and  haggling,  and  occasionally 
"  Sheba  "  could  be  heard  as  hands  were  thrust  out 
and  a  rush  made  towards  the  centre  of  the  group. 
They  were  the  curbstone  brokers,  Tyson  explained, 
and  they  were  trading  in  "  Sheba." 

That  evening  at  their  hotel,  as  they  were  going  down 
to  dinner  Tyson  handed  Glynne  a  check  for  several 
thousand  dollars.  "  For  profits  on  Sheba,"  he  said. 

"Marvellous!"  exclaimed  Glynne,  with  fervour. 
"  You  are  a  magician,  Jim.  How  do  you  do  it  ? 
What  is  the  secret  ? " 

"  Secret  ?  There 's  no  secret.  The  way  to  win  in 
"Wall  Street  is  to  sell  when  things  are  high  and  buy 
when  things  are  low.  Anybody  will  tell  you  that ; 
it's  gospel  truth,  too.  Look  here,  Julian,  am  I  all 
right?" 

Tyson  indicated  his  clothes,  about  the  fit  and  pro 
priety  of  which  he  was  solicitous.  Glynne  as  ar- 
oiter  elegantiarum  looked  him  over  from  head  to  foot 
and  hesitated.  "  Well,  cream-coloured  satin  bows  are 
not  usually  worn  with  evening  dress  just  now, — not 
in  England ;  let  me  lend  you  one  of  mine.  I  do  not 
admire  so  much  jewellery.  The  diamond  solitaire, 
those  rings — but  it  is  so  much  a  matter  of  taste,  dear 
boy.  Some  of  our  men  have  been  known  to  wear 
bracelets.  Look  at  your  Dicky  Lansing,  and  our 
Lord  Aber  :  they  glitter  like  a  perambulating  jew- 

64 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

eller's  show-case.  Candidly,  much  jewellery  is  bad 
form.  I  am  sure  both  Aber  and  Lansing  have  the 
blood  of  pawnbrokers  and  ballet  girls  in  their  veins." 

Tyson  laughed.  "  That 's  right.  Kub  it  in ;  that 's 
what  I  wanted." 

The  solitaire  and  two  of  the  finger  rings  were  re 
moved,  and  the  satin  bow  was  changed  for  one  of 
soft  white  lawn. 

They  sat  down  at  a  table  set  with  silver,  snowy 
damask,  and  pnk  roses  twined  around  the  pearly 
globe  of  an  invisible  lamp.  Tyson  knew  how  to  dine, 
and  was  unsparing  of  luxuries ;  but  he  paid  less  heed 
to  the  food  and  wine  he  provided  than  to  the  silent 
corroboration  of  the  circumstances  in  which  he  found 
himself.  There  was  his  friend  sitting  opposite  to 
him,  the  brother  of  a  nobleman,  who  might  one  day 
become  a  nobleman  himself.  Did  the  people  at  the 
other  tables  knoAv  how  notable  Glynne  was  ?  Or  did 
they  take  him  for  an  ordinary  person?  Glynne 
seemed  to  fit  the  surroundings,  and  not  only  to  par 
ticipate  in  their  ease  and  elegance,  but  to  augment 
those  qualities :  he  made  pleasant  little  epigrams, 
and  once  in  a  while  flashed,  not  obtrusively  (that 
was  one  of  his  charms  :  he  never  was  obtrusive),  his 
persuasive  smile  across  the  other  tables,  where  in  the 
soft  light  and  the  murmur  of  many  voices  there  was 
a  generous  display  of  gleaming  shoulders  and  the 
flicker  of  jewels  and  laces.  The  women  glanced  at 
him,  and  Tyson  compared  him  with  the  other  men 
present,  none  of  whom  had  the  same  charm,  the  same 
distinction — distinction,  that  was  the  word  to  denote 
him — the  distinction  of  noble  descent,  the  repose  and 
grace  of  an  ancient  and  confident  aristocracy.  Ty 
son's  pride  in  him  sweetened  the  food  and  quickened 

E  65 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


the  wine ;  he  glowed  with  a  satisfaction  ineffable 
as  compared  with  any  other  results  his  prosperity 
had  so  far  given  him. 

As  they  sat  down  to  their  coffee  and  cigars  in  the 
smoking-room  a  weakly  youth  with  a  slack  figure 
and  a  vacuous  face,  came  to  Glynne  with  a  friendly 
recognition  which  Glynne  confronted  with  a  measured 
reciprocity. 

"  Ah,  Goggles  ! "  he  said. 

"  Anything  new  ? "  said  "  Goggles." 

"  How  very  young  you  are,  and  always  were,  Gog 
gles  !  The  fatuity  of  finding  anything  new  in  this 
world!" 

"  Our  new  piece ;  that 's  new.  Have  you  seen 
it?" 

"  No,  thank  Heaven  !    Is  it  doing  well  ? " 

"  Ah,  ah !  Bally  good,  but  business  is  tottery, 
tottery." 

"  Goggles  "  faded  away  to  his  own  table. 

"  What  sort  of  a  freak  is  that  ? "  Tyson  inquired. 
"  Is  that  what  you  call  an  Anglomaniac  ? " 

" « Goggles  ? '  Oh,  he  was  a  schoolmate  of  mine  at 
Haileybury.  He 's  on  the  variety  stage  now :  does  a 
comic  dance  in  the  musical  piece  at  the  '  Shooting  Star 
Theatre.'  You  must  have  heard  of  him ;  the  Earl 
of  Margate." 

"  That  the  Earl  of  Margate !  Are  there  any  more 
like  him?" 

"  A  few.  Ah,  Tyson,  we  are  not  all  you  think  we 
are.  You  will  be  disappointed  when  you  find  us  out, 
and  you  will  come  back  a  radical  and  a  democrat. 
Had  n't  you  better  stay  at  home  and  dream  your 
dreams  ? " 

The  next  day  Tyson  sailed,  and  before  the  gang- 

66 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


ways  were  swung  ashore  Glynne  grasped  both  his 
hands  and  thanked  him. 

"  What  a  friend  you  are,  Jim !  I  cannot  think  or 
speak  of  your  goodness  to  me  without — "  Glynne's 
voice  trembled,  and  a  glistening  in  his  eye  completed 
the  meaning  of  the  words. 

"  Well,  you  know  what  you  are  to  do  if  you  want 
to  please  me.  Come  over  soon." 

The  flowers  in  the  saloon  were  banked  on  tables, 
chairs,  and  buffets. 

"  I  guess  yours  is  the  finest  piece  we  've  got,  sir," 
a  steward  said  to  Tyson,  and  there,  opposite  the  place 
in  which  Tyson  was  to  sit,  rose  a  pyramid  of  blue 
violets,  its  apex  sprinkled  with  snow  in  the  form  of 
white  violets.  It  was  Manana,  the  Mountain  of  To 
morrow,  Manana,  in  all  the  glory  of  evening,  sloping 
from  the  sky  in  shining  folds  of  violet  shot  with  gold, 
as  he  had  seen  it  a  thousand  times. 

As  Tyson  bent  over  it  to  breathe  its  fragrance,  and 
saw  Nona's  card  knotted  to  the  base  by  a  red-white- 
and-blue  ribbon,  the  old  ties  wrung  him,  and  some 
thing  in  his  throat  had  to  be  gulped  down.  How  the 
sun  was  beating  on  old  Manana  now,  and  how  endless 
the  plains  were,  and  how  free  the  wind !  He  looked 
at  his  watch,  and  knew  just  what  everybody  was 
doing  out  there  at  that  hour  :  he  could  see  the  dear 
old  Senator,  and  a  Nona  perfected  in  the  glamour  of 
retrospect.  Yearnings,  regrets,  and  a  desire  to  re 
treat  and  return  possessed  him,  and  clogged  him  like 
a  dragging,  cumbrous  pall.  He  strove  against  himself, 
and  protested  his  folly,  but  could  not  shake  off  the 
heaviness.  Sandy  Hook  was  astern,  and  the  steamer 
with  her  whistle  shrieking  was  reeling  towards  the 
lightship  between  the  hollows  and  ridges  of  seas  of 

67 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


deepening  green  plumed  with  white  and  smoking  with 
mist.  The  moisture  dripped  from  the  awnings  and 
gathered  in  beads  on  the  walls  of  the  deckhouses  and 
shook  along  rail,  stancheon,  shroud  and  stay.  An 
all-encompassing,  obliterating  fog  was  spreading  its 
phantom  wings  out  of  the  East,  whither  Tyson  was 
bound. 

After  watching  the  huge  ship  glide  from  her  wharf 
into  the  river  with  the  smoothness  and  ease  of  a  sea- 
bird  on  a  summer  sea,  Glynne  made  his  way  to  the 
Battery,  and  there  gazed  after  her  down  the  beauti 
ful  harbour  (poetic  still  despite  its  commercial  disfig 
uration)  until  she  was  lost  behind  the  curtain  of  her 
own  wreathing  and  engorging  smoke.  He  missed 
Tyson  at  once,  and  his  heart  drooped  in  the  void. 
With  him  emotion  and  sentiment  seldom  failed  to 
answer  the  summons  of  proper  occasions,  and  then 
his  cynicism  dwindled  to  a  matter  of  fashion,  like  the 
cut  of  a  coat,  or  a  playful  foil  to  the  platitudinous 
and  the  obvious. 

What  an  extraordinary  person  Tyson  was,  to  be 
sure ! — half  lyrical  cavalier,  and  half — well  very  plain 
Western  American,  full  of  errors  of  manner,  but  with 
few  or  no  errors  of  fundamental  taste.  And  what 
an  expedition  he  was  now  bent  on  in  returning  to  his 
native  shores,  the  ragged  hungry  youth  who  went 
away  empty  and  in  tatters,  coming  back  in  cloth  of 
gold  to  mingle  with  the  exalted  and  dwell  with  them, 
and  perhaps  to  even  patronize  them  as  the  incense  of 
novelty  spent  itself.  Apart  from  his  personal  charm, 
which  might  not  be  generally  or  immediately  recog 
nized,  Tyson  had  sufficient  wealth  and  sufficient  lib 
erality  in  using  it  to  take  his  stand  in  that  depleted 

68 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

and  needy  London  world  which  Glynne  himself  knew 
to  be  unresisting  to  any  contagion  of  riches  and  in 
dulgent  to  the  bearer  of  any  earthward  divining  rod, 
regardless  of  his  remote  antecedents.  His  sponsor 
ship — the  introduction  of  the  Langdales — retained 
its  value  moreover,  and  that  endorsement  Julian  had 
given  to  Tyson  freely.  Lord  Langdale  had  not  been 
very  friendly  with  Julian  lately,  but  if  his  elder 
brother  failed  in  courtesy  Julia,  his  sister,  Lady 
Cheam, — dear,  silly,  soft  little  Julia  ! — when  had  he 
ever  asked  her  to  do  anything  for  him  that  she  (even 
though  refusing  at  first)  had  not  finally  yielded? 
Many  times  in  the  exigencies  of  his  career  he  had 
been  driven  to  solicit  her  for  more  trying  services 
than  being  kind  to  such  a  man  as  Tyson.  Tyson's 
sister  might  be  an  embarrassment,  as  women  often 
are  to  advancing  men,  but  it  was  ten  to  one  that  he 
would  never  find  her,  and  that  would  be  lucky  for 
him. 

Not  even  the  smoke  of  the  departing  steamer  now 
remained;  she  had  passed  into  the  hidden  circle 
of  the  outer  bay ;  but  Glynne  still  lingered  on  the 
granite  sea  wall  fringing  the  little  park  on  the  tip  of 
the  city's  tongue,  which  in  old  knickerbocker  days 
was  a  fashionable  promenade.  Like  all  places  where 
there  are  ships,  the  Battery,  as  it  is  called,  is  a  good 
place  for  dreaming,  and  Glynne's  reverie  flowed  with 
the  tide  and  took  him  musingly  back  over  his  recent 
experiences  and  beyond. 

He  had  not  lied  to  Tyson  about  himself,  and  the 
story  of  his  search  for  the  mine  which  led  to  his  col 
lapse  on  the  Manana  trail  and  his  discovery  by  Nona, 
stood  in  every  detail  as  he  had  told  it.  He  had  even 
in  a  superfluity  of  candour  revealed  to  Tyson  that  his 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


visit  to  the  pueblo  country  had  its  motive  partly  in 
the  effort  to  escape  the  unhappiness  of  a  foolish  miy- 
adventure  with  a  woman,  and  the  recollection  of  his 
confession  imparted  to  him  for  a  moment  the  glow 
and  renovation  of  a  penitent  after  the  ritualistic  re 
mission  of  sins.  How  weird  that  meeting  with  Ethel 
had  been!  And  how  unearthly  beautiful  she  had 
looked  in  that  white  frock  in  the  shadow  of  those 
grey  walls  of  the  ancient  building,  less  like  a  woman 
than  a  spirit,  the  old  charm  of  the  ethereal,  the  sug 
gestion  of  the  lily  of  Astolat,  that  had  once  enslaved 
him,  potent  in  her  yet !  Should  he  send  for  her  as 
she  had  besought  him  ? 

He  rose  from  the  bench  on  which  he  had  been  sit 
ting  within  the  splash  of  the  curling  water  churning 
in  the  rubble ;  he  could  not  keep  still  as  that  idea 
simmered  in  him.  He  passed  into  the  aquarium 
in  the  rotunda — once  a  fort,  then  a  place  of  public 
entertainment  where  Jenny  Lind  sang,  and  then  (old 
Castle  Garden)  the  receiving  house  of  newly  arrived 
emigrants.  The  dim  cavernous  light  depressed 
him,  and  the  fish  gaping  and  staring  sluggishly  in  the 
tanks  of  absinthian  green  prefigured  in  his  fancy  the 
torpor  and  indolence  of  a  surfeited  socialism. 

He  returned  to  the  air  again,  and  now  Gerald  was 
with  him — Gerald,  his  old  friend,  and  the  colonel  of 
his  regiment,  with  whom  he  had  served  in  Egypt 
and  in  Africa.  Once  again  he  seemed  to  feel  mat 
friendly  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  to  hear  Ger 
ald's  grave  voice,  as  he  had  often  heard  it,  giving 
brotherly  advice.  A  repugnance  to  Ethel  pos 
sessed  him,  and  he  resolved  that  he  and  she  must 
never  meet  again.  His  thoughts  and  his  emotions 
were  as  fitful  as  the  changing  wind  that  was  driving 

70 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


in  a  chilly  sea-fog,  but  the  account  he  took  of  himself 
in  his  introspection  was  moderated  with  apologies  and 
a  vicarious  shifting  of  responsibilities  which  left  him 
undiscouraged  and  unashamed.  The  vision  of  Gerald 
and  Ethel  faded  like  a  dissolving  view,  and  he  con 
soled  himself  with  the  thought  that  the  scandal  that 
he  had  flown  from  would  soon  lose  its  poignance  and 
be  forgotten  or  condoned,  and  London  would  bow  and 
smile  again.  What  is  scandal  to-day,  he  philoso 
phized,  is  romance  to-morrow. 

Really,  how  very  penetrating  the  fog  had  become  ! 
He  would  go  up  to  the  Waldorf  or  Delmonico's  and 
see  the  crowd,  dropping  in  on  the  way  at  that 
broker's  office  in  Wall  Street. 


71 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  VII.     In  the  Isle  of  Wight: 


i 


"t  YSON  thought  he  had  never  before  been 
in  so  sunny  a  room.  He  recalled  the  glare 
that  filled 'the  Senator's  house  at  Sheba  till 
four  o'clock  on  summer  afternoons,  but 
that  was  white,  and  this  was  golden  ;  that 
was  painful,  this  soothing,  giving  to  the 
body  the  throb  of  mellowing  fruit.  Over  the  oak 
floor  a  great  Turkey  rug  spread  its  one  colour,  a 
willow-like  green  except  along  the  border,  in  which 
it  was  edged  with  daffodils  and  pink  carnations,  like 
flowers  tossed  together  without  fore-thought  by  a 
dreamy  weaver  who  cared  not  what  he  was  doing. 
All  the  chairs  and  tables  and  sofas  were  of  white  and 
gold  in  their  framework,  and  of  pink  brocade  in  their 
upholstery.  The  lofty  ceiling  was  groined,  and  gilt 
chandeliers  hung  from  it  in  the  shape  of  leaf  and 
blossom.  Wherever  the  eye  rested  it  discovered  some 
thing  rare  and  beautiful — miniatures  and  precious 
books  on  elaborately  carved  and  inlaid  consols ;  jars 
of  wrought  bronze  and  iridescent  porcelain,  filled 
with  flowers  and  ferns ;  dream-like  pictures  woven 
in  tapestry;  and  landscapes  and  portraits,  several 
of  the  latter,  both  those  of  men  in  military  and  naval 

72 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


uniforms,  and  those  of  the  women  in  the  costumes 
of  various  historical  periods  from  the  Restoration 
down,  recalling  Julian  Glynne  to  Tyson  by  resem 
blances  more  or  less  subtle. 

One  pink  lady  in  particular  in  a  many-pleated 
farthingale,  with  a  peaked  and  much  embroidered 
bodice,  and  a  ruffled  cloud  of  lace  at  her  neck,  and 
masses  of  golden  ringlets  puffed  out  from  her  temples, 
looked  down  upon  him  with  the  appealing  smile  that 
he  remembered  so  well  in  his  absent  friend. 

But  it  was  not  the  beauty  and  luxury  of  the  fur 
nishings  that  impressed  Tyson  and  filled  him  with 
pervasive  delight ;  it  was  the  airiness  and  fragrance 
of  the  room,  which  seemed  more  like  a  pavilion  out 
of  doors  than  part  of  an  interior.  All  the  long 
French  windows  were  open,  and  the  bland  summer 
wind  blew  in,  bearing  bees,  butterflies,  and  all  the 
scents  of  the  garden.  Roses  and  honeysuckle  peeped 
in  around  the  sashes  and  swung  their  sprays  in  the 
breeze. 

Out  of  a  window  Tyson  could  see  a  long  vista  of 
beeches  leading  to  the  tennis  courts,  with  the  sunlit 
space  between  arcaded  by  rambler  roses.  On  one 
hand  a  cultivated  wood  like  a  green  cloud  clung  to 
the  ramparts  of  a  white  cliff,  and  on  the  other  a  suc 
cession  of  terraces  with  carved  balusters,  vases  and 
statues,  led  down  to  such  a  splendour  and  opulence 
of  bloom  and  verdure  as  the  south  of  England  alone 
can  show.  Out  of  another  window  he  saw  through 
occasional  clearings  in  the  close-set  foliage  of  beech, 
birch,  ash  and  chestnut,  the  shimmering  roofs  of  an 
embowered  village  and  the  spire  of  a  red-tiled  vil 
lage  church. 

The  house  was  placed  high  up  on  the  cliff,  midway 

73 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

between  the  softly  swelling  downs  on  the  summit 
and  the  white-feathered  foreshore  of  sandy  beach 
and  rocky  bay.  That  great  plain  of  turquoise  on 
which  rose  leaves  seemed  to  nave  drifted  was  the 
Channel,  and  those  faint  lily-like  columns  raised  upon 
it  were  the  full-bosomed  ships  in  the  offing,  making 
for  Beachy  Head  or  St.  Catherine's  Point. 

The  golden  glow  stole  through  Tyson's  veins,  and 
he  grew  elate  in  response  to  the  goodness  of  the 
world,  especially  the  goodness  of  this  bit  of  the  world 
called  the  Isle  of  Wight,  into  which  he  had  dropped 
by  the  inevitably  belated  train  from  London  fast 
night. 

He  had  been  too  late  for  dinner,  and  after  a  few 
words  with  Lady  Cheam,  and  some  embarrassment 
and  confusion  in  the  presence  of  other  guests  who 
were  too  preoccupied  to  pay  any  attention  to  him, 
he  had  followed  the  hierarchical  butler  to  his  bed 
room,  from  which  he  had  just  now  descended  with  a 
sense  of  shyness  and  a  new  perception  of  the  accord 
between  luxury  and  dignity. 

The  quietude  of  the  morning  in  the  halls,  in  the 
breakfast-room,  and  in  this  beautiful  drawing-room 
facing  the  sea,  weighed  a  little  solemnly  upon  him  : 
he  had  heard  no  human  voices  except  the  monosyl 
lables  of  the  valet  who  had  set  out  his  clothes  for  him 
and  prepared  the  bath  in  his  room.  Only  the  birds 
were  noisy,  and  he  could  hear  the  confident  little 
English  robins  piping  antiphonies  to  the  blackbirds 
of  robuster  notes.  Once  in  a  while  the  sea  drew  a 
deeper  breath,  and  its  throb  rose  against  the  cliff 
and  boomed. 

The  spell  was  to  be  broken,  however,  by  the  ap 
pearance  of  Lady  Cheam,  for  whom  he  was  waiting, 

74 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


as  all  who  had  appointments  with  that  lady  of  un- 
punctuality  were  in  the  habit  of  doing,  peevishly  or 
patiently,  according  to  their  dispositions  and  their 
objects. 

In  she  came  with  a  flutter  of  lace  and  silk  and  the 
odour  of  heliotrope,  and  Tyson  in  the  freshness  of  his 
new  flannels,  and  with  his  eyes  gleaming  behind  his 
strong  glasses,  hurried  to  meet  her  from  the  window 
where  he  had  been  watching  a  fearless  robin  hopping 
about  the  sill. 

Lady  Cheam,  with  a  strong  family  likeness  to  the 
other  pink  lady  in  the  portrait,  was  small,  plump  and 
round,  with  an  air  of  infantile  simplicity  and  con 
fidence.  As  a  prelude  to  conversation  she  smoothed 
her  skirts  by  two  affectionate  pulls  at  them,  turned 
her  head  from  right  to  left  with  a  bird-like  undulous 
swing,  folded  her  small  childish  hands  in  her  lap,  and 
then  opened  on  Tyson  an  archly  coquettish  smile, 
lips  apart  and  eyebrows  raised,  all  these  movements 
being  intended  as  intimations  that  reserve  was  lifted, 
and  the  path  clear  for  mutual  confidences. 

Being  without  any  gift  of  reticence  whatever,  her 
ladyship  flattered  herself,  in  the  way  of  her  kind, 
that  she  was  the  soul  of  discretion ;  she  pleaded  the 
decency  of  taciturnity  as  an  old-fashioned  virtue  now 
lapsing,  and  forthwith  emptied  to  the  last  drop  her 
confused  secretions  of  hearsay  and  knowledge  on  the 
many  she  chose  as  fitting  and  worthy  receptacles. 

" Come  and  sit  down,  and  we'll  have  a  long  chat, 
a  really  delicious  and  long  chat,"  she  said,  beckoning 
Tyson  to  a  chair,  separated  from  her  own  only  by  a 
little  mosaic  table  loaded  with  small  pictures  and 
small  books,  and  a  jar  of  drying  rose  leaves. 

"  It's  such  a  comfort  to  be  alone  with  somebody 
75 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


one  can  really  talk  to,"  she  continued  rapidly,  with 
the  most  expansive  sigh  Tyson  had  ever  heard,  a  sigh 
in  which  she  and  he  and  the  room  itself  seemed  to 
suspire. 

"  One's  friends  are  so  good,  and  yet  the^r  do  bore 
one,  do  they  not?  That  is  one  of  my  theories,  and  I 
know  it  is  unfeeling  and  unchristian,  and  perhaps  it 
is  not  quite  what  I  mean ;  but  they  do,  do  n't  they  ? 
I  like  excitement,  and  goodness  is  never  really  ex 
citing,  is  it  ?  No,  never !  Or  perhaps  I  should  say, 
seldom.  It 's  such  a  comfort  to  see  a  new  face,  and 
that  from  America !  So  kind  of  you  to  come,  and 
so  soon  after  landing !  Now,  as  I  say,  we  must  have 
a  talk,  and  you  must  tell  me  all  about  Julian.  You 
Americans —  " 

"  No,  no?  Lady  Cheam,  I  'm  not  an  American. 
Did  n't  Julian  tell  you  ?  I  was  born  in  England," 
he  declared,  glancing  at  the  fair  picture  out  of  the 
windows,  which  thrilled  him  by  the  sense  of  some 
inheritance  in  its  beauty. 

"  Of  course,  of  course !  How  stupid  of  me  to  for 
get  !  Julian  did  tell  me  all  about  you,  and  what  a 
wonderful  career  you  have  had.  It 's  nice  to  think 
that  you  are  English,  though  you  do  n't  look  it  at  all. 
Perhaps,"  she  continued,  after  pondering  myste 
riously,  "  we  'd  better  not  mention  it — for  reasons 
of  diplomacy." 

"  Eeasons  of  diplomacy  ?  I  do  n't  understand,  Lady 
Cheam,"  said  Tyson. 

"  Oh,  they  always  like  you  better  and  do  more  for 
you  if  they  think  you  are  American.  It 's  absurd, 
and  quite  wrong,  1  know,  but  we  are  ever  so  much 
more  indulgent  to  Americans  who  come  over  than 
we  are  to  our  own  people — ah,  that  is,  to  people  of 

76 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

the  same  kind.  You  need  n't  explain  things  if  you 
are  an  American ;  it  is  quite  natural  for  you  to  be 
what  you  are.  Oh,  I  assure  you  you  can  be  anything 
and  do  anything  over  here  if  you  are  an  American," 
she  declared. 

Tyson  smiled  and  shook  his  head.  "  I  am  what  I 
am, 'and  I  guess  they'll  have  to  take  me  at  that,  or 
not  at  all." 

He  unhooked  his  heels  and  straightened  himself. 

"  I  am  a  plain  man,  Lady  Cheam.  Julian  ought  to 
have  told  you." 

"  How  clever  you  are,  and  what  a  brilliant  success 
you  have  made !  He  did." 

"  No  family  ;  no  university ;  no  connections." 

"  How  wonderful !  " 

"  And  did  he  tell  you  about  my  sister  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  I  've  started  another  search  for  "her — it  was  the  first 
thing  I  did  when  I  landed." 

"  Yes  ;  and  we  are  going  to  help  you  to  find  her. 
She  must  come  and  pay  me  a  long  visit.  You  are 
splendid,  really  you  are  !  " 

"Oh,  no.  There  are  lots  of  fellows  like  me,  and 
many  more  deserving,  who  have  not  had  my  success. 
I  can't  say  I  'm  ashamed  of  myself  in  any  way,  but 
I  should  n't  like  people  to  think  me  better  than  I  am, 
or  take  me  for  what  I  do  n't  pretend  to  be.  These 
people  in  the  house — they  know  ? " 

"  You  '11  find  them  charming,  and  they  will  be  de 
lighted  with  you.  You  undervalue  yourself,  my  dear 
Mr.  Tyson — that  is  what  Julian  said :  he  said  you 
were  as  modest  as  a  girl,  though  that  was  only  an 
expression,  for  girls  are  not  modest  nowadays,  are 
they  ?  So  different  from  what  they  were  when  I 
was  a  girl." 

77 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Tyson  was  an  unpractised  judge  of  women's  ages ; 
Lady  Cheam  was  fair  and  pink  and  vivacious,  and  he 
guessed  at  fifty.  He  fumbled  for  a  compliment,  but 
could  not  find  one. 

"  Oh,  I  am  quite  an  old  woman,  really  I  am,"  she 
laughed,  in  deprecation  of  the  compliment  on  Tyson's 
lips  but  unuttered.  "  As  I  was  saying,  you  under 
value  yourself.  Just  think  of  what  you  are — like 
somebody  out  of  the  Arabian  Nights — who  is  it? 
Ali  Baba?  Aladdin? — who  says  'Open  Sesame!' 
and  makes  everybody  rich? " 

"  Julian  has  been  exaggerating,"  Tyson  demurred. 
"  He  always  makes  more  of  anything  that  belongs 
to  me  than  it  is  worth.  But  we  have  got  a  good 
mine,  sure,  and  the  future  looks  all  right." 

"  How  very  nice !  Julian  said  it  was  a  good  mine, 
a  very  rich  mine.  And  fancv  !  It  might  have  been 
his  if—" 

"If?  His?"  Tyson  cried,  straightening  himself 
again. 

"  I  mean  if  he  had  been  there  a  few  years  earlier, 
and  found  it  before  you  did." 

"  Ah,  in  that  way,"  he  assented,  disturbed  but  in 
capable  of  being  exacting  with  a  lady  whose  unrea 
sonableness  and  inconsequence  were  part  of  her 
charms. 

She  was  tilting  the  lace  fringe  of  her  gown  on  the 
pointed  tip  of  her  shining  little  silver-buckled  shoe  in 
an  evanescent  abstraction,  and  then  once  more  dis 
turbed  him  by  asking, 

"  You  are  quite  sure  your  titles  are  unassailable  ? " 

"  Unassailable  ?  Good — Excuse  me,  Lady  Cheam, 
but  you  've  got  me !  That  is,  I  do  n't  understand. 
Unassailable  ? " 

78 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

She  raised  her  eyes  demurely.  "  Of  course  I  do  n't 
believe  a  word  of  it,  but  a  little  bird  whispered  to  me 
that—" 

"  Forgive  me,  Lady  Cheam,  but  that  bird  lied." 

"  How  naughty  of  him !  But  I  never  had  much 
faith  in  talking  birds,  they  're  too  human." 

She  was  so  intimate  that  Tyson  leaned  towards 
her  like  a  pleading  boy.  "  Who  was  it  ?  " 

"  One  of  you  city  men." 

"  1 5m  not  a  city  man  ;  far  from  it,  Lady  Cheam." 

"  Well,  that  is  what  we  call  them  over  nere.  Oh, 
he  has  been  very,  very  successful.  A  year  or  two 
ago  he  was  n't  worth  a  penny,  and  now — everybody 
is  talking  of  him.  He  wants  to  rent  this  place  from 
us  for  next  year." 

"What's  his  name?" 

"  You  must  have  heard  it — Pewster." 

"  Pewster,  Pewster !  Why,  that 's  the  fellow  that 
sold  Julian — that  used  to  work  for  us  at  Sheba ! " 

Tyson  was  slow  in  recovering  from  his  astonish 
ment. 

"  And  has  Julian  heard  of  this  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Not  yet.  I  was  not  aware  that  Julian  knew  him, 
and  Pewster  has  come  upon  us  so  suddenly  it  quite 
takes  one's  breath  away.  Can  you  tell  me  what  it 
means  ?  He  has  '  cornered '  something." 

"  I  'd  like  to  corner  him.  That  fellow  's  not  fit  to 
speak  to  you,  Lady  Cheam.  He's  the  limit." 

"The  limit?"  " 

"  A  superlative  blackguard." 

"  Yes,  I  see — one  of  your  Americanisms :  Pewster 's 
the  limit." 

She  paused  a  moment  and  then  went  on :  "  But  so 
few  of  these  modern  Croesuses,  these  Tom  Tiddlers, 

79 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


are  nice :  Tom  Tiddler's  ground  always  seems  so  dirty. 
What  can  we  poor  people  do  ?  They  are  crowding 
us  everywhere,  but  they  are  certainly  useful  in  many 
ways,  and  so  hospitable !  I  promised  to  not  say  a 
word  about  it,  but  do  you  know  what  he  did  the  other 
day  ?  I  met  him  at  a  garden  party  at  Carisbrook, 
and  as  we  parted  he  whispered,  '  You  must  take  a 
flyer  in  Micawbers.'  Didn't  that  sound  strange? 
But  I  c  caught  on,'  as  you  say  in  America,  and  I 
bought  a  hundred  shares  of  Micawbers — it 's  a  mine, 
of  course,  not  the  Dickens  person — and  he  wrote  to 
me  yesterday  that  he  had  sold,  and  that  my  profits 
were  a  cool  thousand  !  " 

Her  eyes  sparkled,  and  she  clapped  her  little  hands 
like  a  pleased  child. 

"  You  can't  say  that  that  was  not  kind,  can  you, 
now  ? "  she  proceeded,  without  waiting  for  any  re 
sponse  from  Tyson.  "  It  is  quite  like  conjuring — 
doing  all  sorts  of  things  with  any  kind  of  thing — the 
magic  hat  with  the  goldfish  in  it,  and  rubbing  a 
shilling  in  the  palm  and  changing  it  to  sovereigns. 
You  can  do  it,  too.  Yes,  you  can !  Julian  told 
me  so." 

Tyson  protested  uncomfortably.  He  struggled  to 
reconcile  some  preconceptions  with  what  he  was 
now  listening  to.  The  ground  under  him,  and  his 
surroundings,  and  Lady  Cheam  herself,  jarred  him 
momentarily,  and  he  was  conscious  of  a  slight  recoil 
from  some  of  his  illusions.  Was  this  lady  of  high 
birth  so  mercenary  ?  And  could  any  reprobate  with 
sufficient  wealth  command  English  society  by  free 
living  and  the  tricks  of  the  stock  gambler  ?  Was  it 
— he  sighed — the  same  here  as  in  New  York,  Chicago 
and  San  Francisco  ? 

80 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


A  man  servant  with  a  marble  face  and  cat-like 
step  stole  in,  and  bowed  to  Lady  Cheam. 

"  The  landau  for  the  Bishop  at  three,  Prawle,"  she 
said. 

"  Yes,  my  lady." 

"  Tell  Wilkins  I  shall  want  her  to  go  to  Jolliffe's 
for  some  books." 

"  Yes,  my  lady." 

"  Lady  Komer  is  coming  from  town  by  the  3:10. 
Send  the  omnibus  to  meet  her." 

"  Yery  good,  my  lady." 

"  How  is  your  cold  ? " 

"  Much  better,  thank  you  very  much,  my  lady." 

"  Seven  for  dinner." 

"  Yery  good,  my  lady." 

There  was  a  pause. 

"  Anything  else,  my  lady  ? "  the  servant  enquired, 
and  receiving  a  negative  answer  he  bowed  lower 
than  before,  and  with  another  grateful  "  Thank 
you,  my  lady,"  stole  out  as  noiselessly  as  he  had 
come  in. 

Tyson  had  been  occupied  during  the  episode  in  a 
further  appreciation  of  the  sedate  beauty  of  the  room, 
with  its  evidences  of  permanent  and  unassertive  refine 
ment,  and  the  genuflections  of  the  servant  with  his 
melodic  obeisance,  like  that  of  a  priest  before  an 
altar,  so  strengthened  the  effect  of  established  order 
and  dignity  that  his  faith  in  the  esoteric  character 
of  his  new  environment  recovered  from  the  shock 
of  Lady  Cheam's  volubility. 

"  Shall  we  go  into  the  warden  ?  Yes,  I  think  we 
had  better,"  she  whispered  significantly,  glancing  to 
the  other  end  of  the  room,  where  a  girl,  who  had 
entered  unseen,  was  curled  on  the  floor  before  an 

F  81 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


old  carved  oak  bookcase,  with  a  crimson  volume 
opened  in  her  lap. 

It  was  the  same  girl  he  had  been  introduced  to 
last  night  —  introduced  to  with  nothing  more  than 
a  smile,  a  touch  of  the  hand  and  a  retreat.  He 
could  not  remember  her  name  now,  but  how  she 
looked  he  remembered  distinctly  —  tall  and  slim  as 
one  of  those  lilies  shining  in  the  garden,  as  tall  as 
he  himself  was.  A  very  beautiful  head  she  had,  and 
the  lightish  hair  was  drawn  into  a  knot  behind, 
though  gleaming  wisps  of  it  escaped  and  blew  about 
her  forehead  as  softly  as  gossamer.  Her  face  was  of 
delicate  complexion,  with  small  but  strong  features  : 
it  held  in  his  memory  because  its  changes  of  expres 
sion  were  so  vivid  and  so  opposite,  serious  and  even 
severe  in  repose,  but  suffused,  as  pity  or  pleasure 
moved  her,  with  the  glowing  sweetness  he  had  seen 
in  white  roses.  Such  a  sweetness  had  come  into  it 
while  Tyson  watched  her  bantering  the  Bishop  the 
previous  evening  —  the  elderly  cleric  in  knee  breeches 
and  broad  silk  apron  ;  it  was  a  bishop,  he  inferred — 
but  she  had  met  Tyson  with  the  otner  look,  and  a 
curt  "  How  do  you  do  ? "  like  the  frigid  greeting  of 
an  unfriendly  man. 

He  followed  Lady  Cheam  to  the  lawn,  and  sur 
veyed  with  more  leisure  than  before,  and  with  new 
delight,  the  varied  charms  of  the  house  and  its  sur 
roundings.  Could  anything  in  the  world  be  more 
beautiful  ?  Sea  and  land  met  in  the  sweet  mellow 
gold  drift  of  the  air,  and  the  resplendent  gardens 
and  luxuriant  woodland  swept  down  to  the  shore 
and  dipped  blossoms  and  bough  in  the  spray  as  the 
long  breakers  curled  in  Medusa-like  braids  among 
the  stones.  The  lawn  was  not  flat,  but  was  up- 

82 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


heaved  into  many  little  knolls  and  hillocks,  each 
ringed  by  beds  of  old-fashioned  flowers,  lobelias, 
geraniums,  larkspur,  Canterbury  bells,  phlox,  nastur 
tiums  and  mignonette.  Wherever  the  underlying 
rock  cropped  out  the  ivy  grappled  and  covered  it, 
and  where  there  was  a  hedge  it  was  of  hawthorn,  of 
laurel,  of  myrtle  or  of  the  fuchsias  which  sprinkled 
the  landscape  with  their  crimson  showers  and  soared 
to  the  height  of  trees.  Never  before  had  Tyson 
seen,  or  breathed,  or  imagined  so  many  roses :  they 
mantled  the  front  of  the  house  and  crept  to  every 
window;  ever  renewed,  their  fallen  leaves  hid  the 
earth  at  their  feet  with  circlets  of  jewelled  velvet ; 
supported  by  frail  rods,  such  of  them  as  stood  alone 
bore  breast-high  on  their  fragile  stems  a  cloud  of 
loveliness  and  fragrance  which  they  held  out  ap- 
pealingly  to  all  who  passed,  as  though  asking  like 
the  bearers  of  gifts  to  be  relieved  of  votive  offerings ; 
given  a  trellis  they  alternated  with  the  purple  of  the 
bougainvillea  in  walling  and  arching  the  cool  fra 
grant  arcades  on  both  sides  of  the  lawn. 

From  the  immediate  front  the  house  appeared  to 
be  set  in  a  dense  grove  at  the  top  of  the  slope,  but 
by  following  Lady  Cheam  up  a  zig-zag  path  to  the 
summit  of  a  knoll  Tyson  saw  that  behind  the 
wood  the  slope  rose  much  higher  than  the  highest 
trees,  and  was  buttressed  by  a  vertical  escarpment 
before  it  met  the  pale  and  smooth  verdure  of  the 
downs,  which  rolled  away  and  vanished  against  the 
sky. 

The  variety  of  colour  and  form  before  him  amazed 
him.  A  long  reach  of  the  coast  edged  the  lavender 
sea  with  silvery  chalk  cliffs,  tasselled  by  the  yellow 
washings  of  earth  ;  above  the  cliffs  and  between 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


them  and  the  downs  the  scene  was  wholly  sylvan, 
and  the  sea  a  surprise,  for  here  lay  valley  beyond 
valley,,  with  meadow  and  dell,  a  sprinkling  of  vil 
lages,  and  a  turret  or  a  tower  among  the  tree-tops 
to  denote  some  great  estate  or  pleasure  house.  In 
the  villages  little  thatched  cottages  abutted  with 
their  gardens  on  narrow  lanes  deep-sunk  between 
hawthorn,  laurel  and  myrtle  hedges  and  banks  of 
wild  flowers. 

As  he  looked  on  the  perfection  wrought  by  the  de 
votion  of  the  home  lovers  of  unnumbered  centuries  a 
choking  joy  welled  in  him,  and  an  obstinate  tear 
trickled  along  his  lashes.  The  familiar  anthem  came 
back  to  him — "  Give  peace  in  our  time,  O  Lord  !  " — 
and  there  was  peace  here,  and  the  dreams  he  had 
dreamed  so  often  under  the  glare  of  the  sun  at  Sheba 
and  on  the  roof  of  the  old  pueblo  were  dreams  no 
more. 

His  mood  excused  what  he  had  been  beginning  to 
dislike  in  Lady  Cheam,  her  tendency  to  sordidness, 
and  her  fluent  frivolity.  She  was  bending  over  a  rose 
bush,  and  looked  easily  forgivable  at  that  moment. 

"  You  like  Culvercombe  ?  "  she  said,  looking  up  and 
seeing  the  dreamy  pleasure  in  his  face.  Culvercombe 
was  the  name  of  the  estate. 

"  Like  it !     That 's  no  word  for  it." 

She  smiled.  "  Lord  Cheam  loved  it,  too.  Poor 
dear  Cheam !  "  she  continued,  in  her  discursive  way, 
dwelling  not  too  long  on  a  disturbing  memory  of  tne 
departed.  "  He  was  in  America  once,  you  know, 
but  only  for  a  few  months.  They  sent  him  to  the 
Embassy  at  Washington  ;  he  was  one  of  the  secre 
taries  there — such  a  clever  man  !  Then  something 
happened.  He  wrote  an  article  in  one  of  your  mag- 

84 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


azines  on  '  The  United  States  as  a  Menace  to  Civili 
zation,'  and  they  made  such  a  fuss  about  it !  Your 
people,  I  mean.  It  was  most  unreasonable,  and  most 
unkind.  Cheam  was  never  again  himself  after  he 
came  home.  But  about  Julian :  do  tell  me  every 
thing." 

"  Julian 's  one  of  the  best." 

"  I  like  to  hear  you  say  that.  He  is  a  dear — so 
handsome,  so  clever,  so  good-natured!  His  good 
nature  has  been  his  ruin — " 

She  retrieved  the  last  word.  "  I  do  n't  mean  that, 
but — does  he  seem  happy  ? " 

"  I  think  he  'd  like  to  get  back  home." 

"  He  must  come  soon,  but  for  the  present  there 's 
a  reason." 

Tyson  nodded,  and  Lady  Cheam  questioned  him 
by  a  shrewd  glance. 

"  He  told  you.    I  can  see  it,"  she  decided. 

"  Takes  it  too  seriously,  I  think,  "  said  Tyson. 

"  That 's  the  dear  boy's  way !  He  was  duped — 
yes ;  duped.  She  was  much  older  than  he  was — one 
of  those  silly,  vain,  married  creatures  one  so  often  sees 
nowadays,  who  find  flattery  in  the  attention  of  young 
men.  They  are  most  pernicious  !  You  can  under 
stand  it,  can't  you,  and  look  at  it  like  a  man  of  the 
world?" 

In  the  search  for  justice  Lady  Cheam  preferred  to 
abide  by  the  decision  of  a  man  of  the  world  on  her 
brother,  leaving  the  woman  to  the  ordeal  and  decree 
of  more  precise  tribunals.  But  Tyson's  complaisance 
went  so  far  that  it  excited  some  suspicion — for  she 
surmised  in  him  some  strength  of  character  and,  at 
a  crisis,  inflexible  rectitude.  How  much  had  Julian 
told,  she  wondered  ;  and  Tyson,  suspecting  nothing 

85 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


from  his  friend's  confidence  beyond  a  light-hearted 
intrigue,  did  not  understand  her  when  she  said,  "  It 
was  almost  like  a  conspiracy  against  Julian,  and  now 
her  husband  is  dead — but  they  can't  hold  Julian 
answerable  for  that ! " 

Tyson's  eyes  were  on  the  sea  and  on  all  the  love 
liness  of  the  garden  and  the  interlaced,  cloud-like, 
impenetrable  foliage.  "  I'm  for  Julian  now  and  all 
time,"  he  declared.  "He  takes  it  too  seriously. 
That 's  what  I  told  him.  '  If  the  world  began  with 
one  woman  it  need  not  end  with  one,'  I  said  to  him 
when  he  spoke  of  the  matter  to  me  away  out  at 
Sheba." 

And  it  was  not  without  pride  that  Tyson  resusci 
tated  his  epigram  for  Lady  Cheam's  consolation. 

He  dipped  his  nose  into  the  roses  and  inhaled  them ; 
he  watched  the  fleecy  clouds,  deeper,  fuller,  more 
luminous  clouds  than  he  had  seen  in  many  a  day, 
drifting  in  snowy  masses  between  the  blue  of  the  sky 
and  the  blue  of  the  sea ;  he  glanced  at  the  graceful 
curves  of  the  downs  and  at  the  terraced  woodlands 
below  them.  Perfume  filled  his  nostrils,  the  mur 
mur  of  singing  leaves  and  singing  birds  filled  his 
ears,  and  the  beauty  of  everything  enthralled 
him. 

"  And  Pewster  's  to  have  all  this  !  "  he  lamented, 
biting  his  lip.  Then  spurred  from  his  reverie  by  a 
daring  inspiration,  he  precipitated  a  question :  "  Say, 
Lady  Cheam,  is  that  deal  closed  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.     That  deal  ? " 

"That's  what  we'd  call  it  over  there.  I  mean, 
have  you  definitely  agreed  to  let  Pewster  have  the 
place,  or  is  he  merely  negotiating  for  it  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  see !    I  suppose  I  must  let  him  have  it.     He 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


makes  such  a  good  offer  for  it.  But  you  can  imag 
ine  what  it  is  to  me  to  part  with  it  at  all."  The  lit 
tle  lady  sighed. 

Tyson  wheeled  over  the  scene  again. 

"Let  me  have  it,"  he  cried,  after  a  moment's  delib 
eration.  "  Yes,  I  '11  take  it.  I  want  it ;  let  me  take 
it,  and  on  your  own  terms,  Lady  Cheam  !  You  fix 
the  rent,  and  make  the  terms  to  suit  yourself.  What 
suits  you  will  suit  me — anything  you  say  goes." 

He  rammed  his  hands  in  the  pockets  of  his  flannel 
jacket,  and  chuckled  as  might  a  conqueror  who  sees 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hand  a  long-desired  land  that 
has  come  to  him  by  surprise.  His  body  drew  itself 
to  its  fullest  height,  and  he  sniffed  the  air  and  dilated 
like  a  creature  of  the  forest  breaking  into  new  and 
promising  ground. 

Lady  Cheam  was  bewildered,  and  faced  him  du 
biously.  Then  she  patted  him  on  the  back  with  her 
childish  little  hand  and  smiled.  "  You  are  an  Amer 
ican,  after  all,"  she  said.  "  Only  Americans  talk  like 
that  and  do  things  in  that  way." 

"But  it's  a  bargain?"  Ke  persisted.  "It's  a 
bargain,  Lady  Cheam  ?  It  need  n't  make  much  dif 
ference  to  you.  You  can  be  here  as  much  as  you 
care  to — need  n't  be  disturbed  in  the  least,  need  never 


boyish  eagerness. 

"  I  must  see  my  solicitor,  of  course,"  she  answered. 
"  If  he  approves —  " 

"  He  '11  approve.  I  '11  see  to  that,"  Tyson  cried, 
and  in  imagination  he  was  already  in  possession. 

"  Yery  well,  then.  I  greet  you  as  lord  of  the 
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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


manor,"  replied  Lady  Cheam,  with  a  mock  courtesy, 
and  they  shook  hands  and  laughed  together. 

An  afterthought  came  to  Tyson.  "How  it  will 
surprise  Julian !  "  he  said.  "  But  no,  we  '11  not  say  a 
word  to  him  about  it.  He  '11  come  back,  and  we  '11 
get  him  to  stay  here,  and  he'll  never  know  what 
we  've  done.  That  will  be  a  great  joke,  eh,  Lady 
Cheam  ?  Ah,  dear  old  chap !  "  he  sighed.  "  I  wish 
he  were  here  now  !  " 

A  gardener  touched  his  hat  to  Lady  Cheam,  and 
drew  her  attention  to  one  of  the  greenhouses.  "  Au 
revoir"  she  said.  "  Luncheon  at  one,"  giving  him  a 
coquettish  smile. 

He  delayed  her  for  a  moment.  "Have  I  been 
crowding  you,  Lady  Cheam  ? "  he  apologized. 

"  Crowding  me  ? " 

"  Urging  you  too  much." 

"  Not  at  all.     I  like  it,  and  I  like  you !  " 

He  sauntered  back  to  the  house,  and  looked  into 
the  drawing-room  where  they  had  left  that  tall  girl 
poring  over  the  crimson  book. 

She  was  gone  now,  but  the  book  lay  in  a  chair,  and 
near  it  lay  a  rose  she  had  been  twirling  in  her  fingers. 
He  wondered  what  the  book  was  about,  and  uncon 
scious  of  the  strangeness  of  the  impulse,  he  picked  it 
up  and  opened  it  at  the  title  page :  the  paper  was 
rough-edged  and  yellow  with  age,  the  parchment 
binding  stained  and  warped.  As  he  put  it  down 
again  he  shook  his  head  sadly,  and  a  shadow  of 
chagrin  crossed  his  face,  for  the  book  was  in  Latin, 
and  he  could  not  read  it. 


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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  VIII.     Tyson  Dines  with  Some 
Fashionable  People 


AS  Tyson  descended  the  wide,  oak  stairway 
into  the  great  hall  between  the  drawing- 
room  and  the  dining-room  his  step  was 
slow  and  reluctant,  and  he  was  not  sure 
of  himself.     The  pleasure  of  the  morning 
and  of  the  afternoon  which  he  had  spent 
on  the  downs,  scouring  their  hollows  and   breezy 
ridges,  gave  place  to  an  almost  intolerable  shyness 
and  loneliness,  and  if  he  could  have  found  an  excuse 
he  would  have  evaded  what  was  before  him. 

As  it  was  he  edged  himself  down  the  last  step  and 
into  the  room  io  which  Lady  Cheam  and  her  guests 
had  assembled  for  dinner.  Still  he  hugged  the 
shadow,  and  furtively  retired  to  the  shelter  of  one  of 
the  buttresses  of  the  canopied  marble  fire-place,  where 
unseen  he  looked  and  listened,  and  endeavoured  to 
recall  to  his  support  some  of  the  precepts  Julian  had 
gaily  flung  to  him  in  his  debonair  way  when  they 
smoked  together  in  the  den  at  Sheba.  .  .  . 

That  was  the  Bishop,  undoubtedly,  the  Bishop  of 
Winsbury,  a  spare,  clean-shaven,  gentle  old  man  of 
great  urbanity.  .  .  .  The  middle-aged  woman  in 

89 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


the  glittering,  brittle  jetted  dress,  which  tinkled  and 
sparkled  as  she  moved,  she  with  the  long  neck 
and  sharply  jointed  arms  strung  together  with  little 
covering  of  Nature's  or  of  Fashion's — he  surmised 
that  she  was  Lady  Homer.  Her  face  was  wedgelike 
and  narrow,  and  her  nose  longer  and  narrower  in 
proportion  than  her  face.  Tyson  had  never  before 
understood  the  full  meaning  of  a  hatchet  face.  Yes, 
that  was  Lady  Homer,  the  wife  of  the  Earl  of  Homer, 
who  had  been  prominent  on  the  Conservative  side  of 
politics,  ex-diplomat,  ex-cabinet  minister !  Her  eye 
caught  his  in  the  supercilious  glare  of  her  lorgnette, 
and  an  anticipatory  antipathy  shot  through  him  and 
burned  him. 

Who  was  that  absurd,  slender,  pallid  man,  who 
wriggled  so  much,  and  said  things  which  made  them 
laugh  while  his  own  face  was  so  impassive  ?  There 
were  a  few  others  he  could  not  place  and  was  not 
curious  about,  but  there — there  was  the  tall,  fresh, 
independent,  earnest  girl  of  the  crimson  book,  who 
sped  from  one  to  the  other,  chatting  vivaciously  with 
tnis  one  and  that,  and  in  the  intervals  falling  into 
that  seriousness  of  expression  he  had  observed  be 
fore,  with  a  mood  as  changeable  as  the  surface  of  a 
river. 

Her  seriousness  had  no  asperity  in  it  now,  and  was 
without  the  hauteur  he  had  inferred  last  night. 
Everybody  was  intimate  with  her  and  called  her  Mary, 
a  name  which  he  suddenly  reminded  himself  he  had 
always  liked  for  its  sweet  simplicity.  Perhaps  it  had 
not  been  hauteur  at  all :  he  knew  himself  to  be  dis 
traught  and  capable  of  misjudging. 

Lady  Cheam  rustled  towards  him,  and  seemed  to 
have  been  watching  him,  and  reading  his  thoughts. 

90 


How  Tyson   Came  Home 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  that  is  the  Bishop.  Such  a  dear 
good  creature !  He  is  full  of  comfort,  dear  soul,  and 
makes  one's  trials  and  afflictions  so  bearable  that  one 
almost  enjoys  them. 

" I  saw  that  you  were  looking  at  her"  she  ran  on, 
"  and  you  are  quite  right.  That  is  Lady  Homer,  a 
cousin  of  mine.  We  are  nearly  all  cousins  here.  I 
hope  you  will  find  her  agreeable.  She  thinks  she 
knows  every  thing,  poor  dear,  and  that  the  Romers 
are  everything.  Fancy !  Is  n't  that  ridiculous ! 
And  that  is  Wembley  Gleg,  a  most  amusing  creature ! " 

She  smiled  towards  the  serpentine  man  who  pro 
duced  mirth  in  others  without  revealing  it  in  him 
self. 

"  A  dreadful  cynic,  but  very  witty.  He  can  be 
extremely  disagreeable,  yet  see  how  he  makes  them 
laugh !  That  is  why  I  have  him ;  that  is  why  every 
body  has  him.  He  writes,  too,  you  know,  writes  all 
sorts  of  things." 

She  paused,  and  bent  close  to  Tyson's  ear. 
"  Ahem  ! "  she  whispered.  "  A  word  to  the  wise : 
they  won't  mention  Julian,  and  you  need  n't." 

The  girl  called  Mary,  with  the  livelv  grey  eyes  and 
the  clear  pale  face,  joined  them,  and  glanced  at  Tyson 
inquiringly  with  tnat  adorable  smile  of  hers.  She 
was  not  more  than  twenty -four,  he  decided,  and  was 
dressed  in  a  soft  diaphanous  grey  fabric  that  hung 
like  a  silvery  mist  over  underlying  pink  silk. 

"  Do  come  here,  Mary,  and  talk  to  Mr.  Tyson," 
said  Lady  Cheam.  "  He  has  been  hiding  himself  in 
this  corner  and  quizzing  us  ;  I  am  sure  he  has,"  she 
added,  as  she  left  them  alone,  without  heeding 
Tyson's  deprecation. 

"  Yes,  let  us  talk,"  assented  Mary ;  "  it  will  be  a 

91 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

relief.  Lady  Homer  does  nothing  but  talk  about  state 
secrets  without  revealing  any,  while  Mr.  Gleg  con 
stantly  abuses  England." 

"  But  is  n't  he,  Mr.  Gleg,  an  Englishman  ? "  Tyson 
asked. 

"  I  am  ashamed  to  say  he  is — of  a  kind.  You 
know  it,  do  n't  you  ?  The  kind  that  cultivates  as  an 
art  the  habit  of  differing  with  everybody  and  attack 
ing  serious  things  from  the  ambush  of  an  affected 
cynicism.  An  easy  trick  that  serves  as  an  apology 
for  wit  with  so  many  of  our  coxcombs !  I  've  no 
patience  with  it !  " 

"  Yes,  that  sort  of  nonsense  makes  me  mad,  too," 
Tyson  declared,  and  then  he  found  her  looking  at 
the  rose  in  his  button-hole  which  he  had  picked  up 
near  the  crimson  book  in  the  morning. 

"  Anything  the  matter  with  it  1 "  he  asked. 

"  It 's  faded  ;  it  looks  as  if  it  had  a  history."  She 
laughed. 

"  I  've  been  saving  it,"  he  admitted. 

"  Saving  it  when  there  are  roses  everywhere  !  Ah, 
there's  some  story  about  it,"  she  again  laughed. 
"  Tell  me  what  it  is." 

"  Oh,  nothing.     I  found  it." 

"  Found  a  rose !  That 's  a  curious  thing  to  say 
where  roses  are  abounding.  One  plucks  them,  or 
picks  them,  unless  they  are  given  to  one." 

"Well,  I  neither  picked  nor  plucked  this  one, 
and  it  was  n't  given  to  me." 

She  shook  her  head,  and  all  the  loose  threads  of 
gold  danced  along  her  brow.  Her  trifling  comedy 
pleased  him,  and  raised  his  spirits,  and  he  hoped  that 
he  would  be  placed  near  her  at  dinner.  He  would 
rather  have  talked  to  her  than  to  anybody  else — he 

92 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


was  more  drawn  to  her  now  than  he  had  been  before. 
But  when  they  filed  from  the  hall  into  the  dining- 
room,  and  sat  down  at  the  glistening  table,  which  \vas 
heaped  with  flowers  and  tipped  with  the  flames  of 
countless  candles  showing  pale  against  the  splendours 
of  the  sunset  glow  flushing  between  the  edges  of  the 
curtains  and  the  mullioned  windows,  he  was  placed 
between  Lady  Romer  and  the  Bishop,  and  all  he 
could  see  of  Mary  was  the  top  of  her  shapely  head. 
Lady  Cheam  beamed  encouragement  from  her  end  of 
the  table,  but  in  his  disappointment  he  raged  against 
his  own  dullness  and  awkwardness,  and  prayed  he 
might  be  let  alone.  Like  Sidney  Smith  when  he 
sat  next  to  a  bishop,  Tyson  crumbled  bread,  and 
nervously  rolled  a  little  ball  between  the  tips  of 
two  of  his  fingers ;  but  the  isolation  he  desired  was 
denied. 

First  the  Bishop  spoke  to  him. 

"  You  are  an  American  ? " 

"  No,  sir— English." 

"  Really  ?  But  if  they  have  not  assimilated  you 
over  there  you  have  at  least  acquired  some  of  their 
characteristics.  It  appears  that  there  are  only  two 
nationalities  in  that  great  country  which  resist  assi 
milation,  and  strange  to  say,  they  are  as  wide  apart 
as  the  English  and  the  Chinese.  How  do  you  account 
for  that  ? » 

Tyson  laughed.  "  I  guess  that 's  so.  I  guess  it 's 
because  they  both  have  a  fixed  idea  of  getting  home 
at  last,  and  being  buried  there." 

The  serpentine  man  had  been  listening,  and 
drawled. 

"  Well,  that  is  one  thing  England  can  do  for  her 
people,  bury  them ;  and  that  perhaps  is  our  only  ex- 

93 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


tenuation.  You  who  have  breathed  the  fine  air  of 
America,  Mr.  Tyson,  how  can  you  endure  this  pot 
man's  paradise,  the  only  land  in  which  public  con 
veyances  measure  their  distances  from  public  house 
to  public  house  ? " 

That  was  true,  Tyson  admitted  to  himself,  remem 
bering  that  the  painted  tariff  of  fares  in  many  of 
the  'buses  was  scaled  from  tavern  to  tavern,  from 
the  "Eyre  Arms"  to  the  "  Prince  of  Wales,"  and 
so  on. 

"Why  do  you  put  up  with  it?"  Tyson  said 
pointedly.  "  If  a  man  in  America  talked  like  that 
about  America — " 

"  Oh,  we  have  ceased  to  be  sensitive  in  England. 
What  right  has  a  prosperous,  gin-drinking  nation  to 
be  sensitive  ?  Look  at  the  advertisements  in  the 
daily  papers,  in  which  taverns  are  recommended  for 
saleln  '.prosperous  gin-drinking  neighbourhoods,'  and 
as  far  as  I  can  make  out  there  are  few  neighbour 
hoods  which  do  not  claim  this  distinction." 

Mr.  Gleg  sipped  his  champagne  nonchalantly,  and 
Tyson  looked  up  and  down  the  table  listening  for 
some  remonstrance.  It  came  from  Mary,  who  reached 
from  behind  a  cluster  of  roses  with  a  swift  glance  at 
him  as  she  spoke.  The  others  appeared  to  be  far 
from  resentful. 

"'He  addeth  rebellion  unto  his  sin,  he  clappeth 
his  hands  among  us,  and  multiplieth  his  words,' "  she 
said.  "  Why  not  rise  to  the  occasion,  and  take  some 
settlement  work  in  a  gin-drinking  parish.  I  can  find 
a  place  for  you." 

"To  deprive  the  people  of  their  chief  pleasure? 
No,  I  '11  not  do  that.  I  believe  in  the  liberty  to  be 
clean  and  the  liberty  to  be  dirty,  the  liberty  to  drink 

94 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


and  the  liberty  to  abstain,  and  in  all  liberties,  Mary, 
except  that  of  perverting  the  scriptures  against  an 
old  friend.  Job  was  ill-used  by  Elihu  in  that  quota 
tion  of  yours ;  but  you  church  people  drive  your  texts 
both  ways,  head  first  or  tail  first,  either  way  so  that 
they  move  to  suit  you." 

"  A  text  must  be  able  to  kick  or  bite  to  make  any 
impression  on  you." 

"  Oh,  I  do  n't  know  about  that,  but  a  text  is  in 
variably  a  dilemma  with  two  horns  as  some  people 
use  it." 

"  And  the  horns  are  only  long  enough  to  match  the 
ears  of  the  scoffer,"  she  retorted. 

Another  of  Tyson's  preconceptions  was  undermined. 
There  was  less  decorum  and  formality  than  he  had 
expected  in  the  presence  of  the  Bishop.  He  found 
him  amused  rather  than  offended;  and  then  he 
turned  to  him  and  said, 

"  That 's  a  smart  girl.  I  'd  have  liked  to  tackle 
that  fellow  myself,  but  I  could  n't  have  done  it  as 
well  as  she  did.  Somehow  she  seems  like  an  Amer 
ican  girl." 

"  W  hy  do  you  think  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  she 's  so  outspoken,  so  able  to  take  care  of 
herself." 

The  Bishop  smiled.  "  She  is  a  clever  girl,  and  she 
is  very  useful  to  me.  Cambridge  has  done  so  much 
for  our  girls,  Oxford  so  little." 

"  Indeed  !  She 's  a  college  girl,  is  she  ? "  Tyson 
asked,  wondering  what  her  relationship  to  the  Bishop 
was,  that  he  could  so  describe  her  value  to  him. 

"  She  took  a  first  class  at  Newnham,  and  I  may 
say  that  it  has  not  spoiled  her  in  the  least." 

"  No,  sir,  it  has  n't,  not  a  bit,"  and  Tyson  agreed 
95 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


with  so  much  emphasis  that  the  Bishop  lifted  his 
eyes  and  moved  in  his  chair. 

"I  am  old-fashioned.  I  cannot  bear  pedants  in 
petticoats,  and  so  few  women  are  able  to  fill  their 
heads  and  preserve  their  charm — to  climb  the  tree  of 
knowledge  and  come  down  without  all  sorts  of  burrs 
and  prickly  things  clinging  to  their  garments." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,  my — my  lord,"  Tyson  as 
sented,  so  ingratiated  by  the  Bishop  that  the  form  of 
deference  now  came  easily  and  naturally.  "  And  that 
Mr.  Gleg,"  he  continued,  with  increasing  confidence ; 
"  Lady  Cheam  tells  me  he  Js  an  author.  What  has 
he  written  ? " 

"  I  do  not  read  what  he  writes,  but  I  am  told  it  is 
very  clever.  His  latest  book  is  called,  I  understand, 
*  The  Autobiography  of  a  Monkey.' ): 

The  occasion  was  irresistible  for  Tyson,  and  he 
laughed.  "  Ah,  ah — personal  reminiscences,  eh  ?  " 

But  to  this  the  Bishop  did  not  respond.  "  Really 
we  are  scandalous,  talking  of  our  neighbours  in  this 
way.  Shall  we  change  the  subject  \  " 

He  turned  to  the  high  complexioned  man  opposite 
to  him,  whom  he  addressed  as  Sir  Walter,  and  Tyson 
again  became  a  listener  and  a  crumbier  of  bread.  He 
wished  those  flowers  were  out  of  the  way  so  that  he 
might  see  Mary,  but  he  could  only  hear  her  voice  as 
she  talked  with  the  cleric  who  sat  on  her  left. 

The  conversation  drifted  away  from  him  into  sub 
jects  that  he  did  not  care  for,  or  on  which  he  was 
uninformed — Dante,  the  Royal  Academy,  the  tradi 
tions  of  the  Roman  pontificate,  the  aims  of  positivism, 
Sara  Bernhardt  and  the  Gaelic  League.  Lady  Cheam 
tinkled  through  it  with  tireless  irrelevance,  like  a 
meddlesome  child,  contributing  nothing  and  taking 

96 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


nothing  away ;  Gleg  shot  his  arrows  with  languid  im 
partiality  in  both  directions  ;  the  Bishop  argued  mildly 
but  without  yielding,  and  Sir  Walter  chafed  against 
death  duties  and  socialism.  What  was  debatable 
Mary  stood  ready  to  debate.  Apparently  there  were 
few  things  on  which  she  did  not  have  an  opinion,  and 
instead  of  being  challenged  or  bantered  or  humoured, 
as  other  women  at  the  table  were,  she  was  listened 
to  deferentially  as  she  explained  herself  with  a  quiet, 
soft-voiced  persuasiveness  and  reasonableness  that  led 
to  what  in  Tyson's  conviction  was  the  core  and  es 
sence  of  the  irrefragable. 

He  was  spell-bound  as  he  listened,  she  was  so  wise 
and  sa  well-read ;  but  his  appreciation  of  her  reacted 
in  a  flush  of  shame  and  anger  against  himself  for  his 
own  ignorance. 

Not  without  pride,  and  not  without  moderate 
self-esteem,  Tyson  was  one  of  those  rare  human 
beings  to  whom  conspicuousness  is  a  pain,  and  could 
he  have  chosen  he  would  subsided  into  mere  listener 
through  the  rest  of  the  dinner ;  but  Lady  Homer 
now  broke  in  upon  him  from  her  trusses  and  tressels 
of  sinew,  with  a  voice  that  sounded  like  the  dry  clut 
ter  of  a  hen.  All  of  it  came  from  the  roof  of  her 
mouth  and  was  delivered  in  a  hard  staccato  without 
vibration.  She  grated  on  him  like  the  rasping  of  a  file. 

"  So  you  are  not  an  American,  though  Lady  Cheam 
gave  me  the  idea  that  you  were.  I  detest  Ameri 
cans.  Lord  Cheam  was  quite  right  about  them — 
they  are  a  menace  to  civilization.  They  thrust  them 
selves  everywhere,  and  vulgarize  the  very  air.  I 
mean  those  common  people  who  come  over  every 
summer.  There  are  a  few  decent  ones,  of  course, 
but  they  are  so  few.  Most  of  the  men  are  like 
G  97 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


bagmen,  and  the  women ! — like  cocottes  when  they 
are  young,  and  like  scarecrows  when  they  are 
old.  Then  that  silly  fiction  of  their  dressing  well ! 
I  can't  expect  you  to  appreciate  that,  but  they 
are  to  any  person  of  taste  the  worst  dressed 
women  in  the  world.  They  choose  their  fashions 
from  the  streets  and  the  cafes  chantant,  and  the  more 
monstrous  the  fashions  are  the  more  eager  they  are 
to  follow." 

"  I  :d  never  notice  that,"  said  Tyson  drily  and 
solemnly — "  noticed  the  dress,  I  mean ;  not  in  my 
line,  that,  Lady  Romer,  and  as  for  the  people,  I 
never  noticed  the  air,  except  that  it  always  seemed 
clean  and  fresh  to  me.  I  've  got  a  good  many  friends 
out  there,  you  see,  and  I  may  be  partial.  A  man 
never  knows  what  a  woman's  dress  is,  anyway — he 
only  feels  it,  I  guess,  as  an  intangible  quality  that 
repels  or  draws  him,  and  fuses  with  the  personality  of 
the  wearer." 

Mary's  rose  silk  and  Lady  Homer's  own  costumes 
were  at  that  moment  in  the  balance  of  his  eye.  He 
was  conscious  of  floating  into  deep  waters. 

"  Some  English  girls  do  dress  nicely,"  he  con 
tinued,  with  emphasis,  as  the  balance  fell  in  the 
direction  of  the  tulle  and  rose  pink. 

Meanwhile  Lady  Romer  observed  him  with  omi 
nous  severity.  "  You  know  Washington  ? "  she  asked. 

"  Not  so  well  now  as  I  expect  to  do.  My  partner 
is  in  the  Senate — Senator-elect,  that  is." 

"  Then  you  know  New  York — the  Kill  von  Kulls, 
the  Gansevoorts,  the  Spuyten  Dyvils  ? " 

"  No,  I  do  n't  know  them — all  I  know  of  New  York 
is  Wall  Street,  three  good  theatres,  and  two  good 
restaurants." 

98 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


uAnd  your  Senate — is  it  as  corrupt  as  ever?  I 
heard  the  other  day  that  one  man,  not  a  Senator  him 
self,  boasted  he  could  '  swing '  twenty-eight  votes, 
whatever  '  swing '  means.  I  infer  it  means  control." 

"  Do  n't  know  anything  about  that  twenty-eight, 
Lady  Eomer.  I  should  not  care  to  take  that  job  my 
self  unless  I  wanted  to  swing  myself  farther  than  I 
care  to  go,  and  as  for  my  Senator !  The  fellow  that 
tried  to  swing  him  or  his  vote  would  n't  know  what 
had  happened  to  him." 

"  Ah,  well,  there 's  one  thing  we  are  spared.  Our 
men  who  are  foolish  or  penniless  may  go  over  there 
for  their  wives,  but  we  have  n't  come  to  the  pass  yet  of 
marrying  our  girls  to  their  men.  Their  women  can 
be  taught.  Look  at  Lily  Ponsonby,  whose  grand 
mother  was  a  laundress,  and  at  Grace  Biddulph,  whose 
grandfather  made  glue  !  They  are  almost  as  real  as 
stage  duchesses,  but  the  men — ugh!  Always  low 
comedians,  with  irreverence  for  wit  and  bustle  for 
manners.  If  our  English  girls  ever  come  to  marry 
ing  such  as  these,  with  their  shopmen's  aprons  visi 
ble  through  their  frock  coats — ugh ! " 

The  conversation  shifted  again,  and  Lady  Romer 
sat  as  grim  as  ever.  From  time  to  time  Tyson 
noticed  that  she  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  he  sus 
pected  that  it  was  at  his  pronunciation  of  certain 
words.  At  last  she  corrected  him  flatly. 

"  Peters — ham,"  he  said. 

"  Peter — sham,"  she  insisted. 

"The  village  is  called  after  its  church,  which  is 
St.  Peter's.  Ham  is  the  same  as  hamlet,  or  village, 
that 's  sure,  so  it 's  Peter's  ham,"  he  contended. 

The  tip  of  Lady  Homer's  nose  nearly  reached  her 
chin  as  it  lengthened. 

99 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Reason  is  altogether  on  your  side,  Mr.  Tyson," 
Mary  declared. 

"  That  leaves  him  in  the  wrong,"  said  Gleg. 
"  There  is  no  reason  in  English  pronunciation,  only 
idiotic  distortion." 

The  ladies  retired  into  the  drawing-room,  and 
the  Bishop  turned  to  Tyson  and  soon  drew  him  by 
sympathy  into  a  revelation  of  his  dream  of  England, 
and  into  a  confession  of  all  the  fond  anticipations 
that  had  been  so  long  cherished  and  so  long  delayed 
in  his  Western  life.  His  enthusiasm  ignited  a  re 
sponsive  glow  in  the  Bishop's  eye,  and  that  ardour  of 
Tyson's  transfigured  for  the  present  not  only  the 
land  but  the  people  and  their  condition,  not  only 
England  but  everything  English,  except  Gleg  and 
Lady  Romer. 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  Bishop,  with  a  wistful  smile,  "  I 
cannot  agree  with  you  in  all  that.  I  wish  that  our 
hope  for  ourselves  could  be  as  ample  as  is  your  faith 
in  us,  but  the  golden  age  is  not  yet,  not  yet !  Our 
people  are  a  gentle,  simple  people,  and  steadfast,  but 
alas !  as  steadfast  in  their  vices  as  they  are  in 
their  virtues.  The  country  ?  Yes,  our  rivers,  our 
fields,  our  woods,  our  birds,  our  skies — I  have 
seen  much  of  the  world,  but  no  such  rural 
beauty  as  we  have  here.  The  cathedrals !  There 
you  touch  my  heart.  They  are  one  of  our  great 
est  inheritances,  one  of  the  priceless  gifts  of  the 
past  to  the  present,  priceless  not  only  for  what  they 
are  historically  and  architecturally,  but  also  as  towers 
that  speak  to  towers  and  answer  hope  with  the  joy 
of  faith.  Even  now  when  I  have  my  own  cathedral 
I  cannot  see  one  of  them  even  in  passing — Lincoln 
over  the  fens,  Ely  on  its  mound,  York  from  the  train 

100 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


— that  my  heart  does  not  come  into  my  mouth  and 
repeat  the  emotion  I  had  in  my  holiday  pilgrimages 
to  them  when  I  was  a  poor  curate  in  Lancashire. 

"  And  by  the  way,  you  must  let  me  have  the  pleas 
ure  of  showing  you  Winsbury  while  you  are  here. 
Come  in  the  morning,  and  spend  the  day.  Or,  better 
still,  come  in  the  afternoon,  and  spend  tie  night.  I  '11 
speak  to  my  niece  about  it.  You  can  agree  on  a  date 
between  you.  Since  my  wife  died  I  should  have 
been  a  lonely  old  man  but  for  Mary." 

Thus  Tyson  discovered  that  Mary  was  the  Bishop's 
niece,  and  by  the  time  he  got  to  his  bed-room  he 
knew  that  her  full  name  was  Mary  Leigh.  It 
tangled  itself  with  all  his  thoughts  and  imaged  itself 
in  glimpses  of  strong  and  cool  grey  eyes  with  dark 
intensified  rings  in  them ;  in  a  face  delicate,  smooth 
and  pale,  but  warm ;  in  a  white  forehead  rippled 
with  mischievous  loose  wisps  of  fine  shining  nair ; 
and  in  a  tallish  frail  figure  draped  in  that  soft  stuff 
which  gave  the  effect  of  pink  blossoms  bathed  in  the 
morning's  dew  and  mist. 

He  drew  a  chair  up  to  the  low  window  and  with 
out  lighting  the  candles  sat  there  in  a  reverie,  looking 
over  the  tree-tops  to  the  sea,  along  which  the  red  and 
green  steering  lights  and  the  white  mast-head  lights 
of  the  ships  were  strung  like  beads  between  the  two 
head-lands.  Now  and  then  a  passenger  steamer  from 
India  or  America  made  itself  known  by  a  trellis  of 
electricity  as  radiant  as  a  multitudinous  town.  The 
air  was  full  of  the  sleepy  sounds  and  odours  of  drowsy 
flowers,  the  crisping  of  the  surf  on  the  shore,  the 
chafing  of  leaves  and  bending  boughs,  and  the  chime 
of  a  distant  clock. 

Tyson's  memory  went  back  to  a  time  when  he 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


dreamed  of  the  universities  as  little  Jude  did  on  the 
red-roof  ed  barn  of  Thomas  Hardy's  story,  and  fretting 
under  his  inadequacy  and  ineligibility,  he  recalled 
as  applicable  to  himself  advertisements  he  had  seen 
in  some  of  the  newspapers :  "  A  young  man  whose 
education  has  been  neglected  desires  private  lessons 
from  an  experienced  tutor." 


102 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  IX.    In    which   Tyson  Looks 
for  Mary 

WHEN  he  awoke  in  the  morning  Tyson 
resolved  to  "  buck  up  "  and  to  "  keep 
his  end  up,"  as  his  thought  shaped  itself 
in  the  familiar  phrases,  and  not  to  give 
way  to  any  lurking  suspicions  of  inferi 
ority.     To   be  of    obscure    origin  and 
"  self-made  "  could  not  be  so  much  of  a  handicap  in 
these  days  of   predominant  commercialism — Julian 
had  emphasized  that — and  his  wealth  and  the  ease 
with  which  he  could  add  to  it  endued  him  with  a 
potency  equal  to  that  of  others  like  Sir  John  Titter 
and  Dicky  Lansing,  who  had  not  found  it  difficult  to 
allay  the  prejudices  and   surmount  the  barriers  of 
caste  and  fashion.     He  would  show  them  what  he 
could  do — great  things  were  possible  with  Sheba — 
and  one  of   the   first   to   benefit  should    be    Lady 
Cheam,  who  would  not  be  likely  to  make  any  secret 
of  what  those  who  were  friendly  to  Jim  Tyson  might 
expect  from  him. 

Not  in  his  own   conceit,  but  without  conscious 
ness,  Tyson  was  the  soul  of  generosity,  and  where- 

103 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

ever  he  happened  to  be  he  was  full  of  the  inspira 
tion  of  benevolence,  planning  and  doing  kindly  deeds 
as  freely,  as  often,  and  as  habitually  as  other  men 
dwell  on  what  is  only  their  own  advantage.  Nor 
was  it  ordinarily  for  the  glory  of  it,  or  from  the 
reckless  lavishness  of  superfluity,  that  this  generosity 
sprang  :  it  was  the  spontaneous  habit  and  expression 
of  his  nature. 

Now,  however,  and  perhaps  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life,  his  bountiful  impulses  in  their  comprehen 
sive  intention  were  vitiated  in  some  degree  by  the 
reckonings  of  vanity  and  self-interest.  Contrary  to 
his  habit,  he  revelled  in  thoughts  of  display,  and  as 
he  was  drawn  again  and  again  from  his  dressing 
table  to  the  window  in  his  inability  to  keep  away 
from  the  shining  beauty  of  sea  and  land  in  their 
aureate  glow,  and  he  hummed  one  of  Tennyson's 
songs — "  There  are  no  maids  like  English  maids  " — 
he  planned  the  things  he  would  do  to  prove  that  it 
was  a  good  thing  to  be  on  the  right  side  of  Jim 
Tyson. 

What  did  he  care  anyhow  for  what  the  people 
thought  of  him  ?  A  few  such  dinners  and  suppers 
as  he  would  give  at  the  Carlton,  the  entertainments 
he  would  arrange  at  Culvercombe  with  Lady 
Cheam's  aid,  the  "tips"  he  could  distribute  like 
crumbs  to  hungry  birds  to  those  who  wanted  them 
—they  'd  all,  even  that  snob,  Lady  Komer,  find  it  to 
their  advantage  in  the  end  to  be  civil  enough  to  Jim 
Tyson. 

As  for  Lady  Komer,  he  resolved  that  the  next 
time  he  met  her  he  would  give  her  some  tough 
Indian  names  to  pronounce,  and  see  whether  she 
could  manage  them  as  well  as  he  did  Petersham, 

104 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


which  he  still  clung  to  in  his  pique  as  Peters — 
ham. 

Against  this  bristling  egotism  another  mood  of  nor 
mal  modesty  impinged  and  a  nobler,  quieter  attitude 
attended  the  thought  of  Mary  Leigh.  What  did  she 
think  of  him  ?  W  hat  would  she  think  if  the  flam 
boyance  of  the  earlier  moment  could  penetrate  in  its 
arrogance  the  orbit  of  her  calm  and  high  ideals  ? 
Tyson  was  ashamed  of  himself,  and  he  put  before  all 
other  considerations  a  course  for  himself  that  should 
have  her  appraisal  and  sanction.  What  could  he 
do  to  benefit  her  in  any  way,  or  to  propitiate  her 
in  any  degree — "  tips,"  dinners,  gifts  ?  He  scorned 
the  fatuity  of  the  thought,  and  all  his  resources 
seemed  as  unavailing  and  as  inadequate  as  unworthy 
offerings  scattered  on  the  altar  of  an  irresponsive 
deity. 

The  Bishop  was  leaving  for  Winsbury  a  week  later, 
and  early  in  the  morning  the  waggonette  that  was  to 
take  him  to  Yentnor  awaited  him  on  the  porch. 
When  Tyson  went  downstairs  the  Bishop  himself 
was  in  the  hall,  hat  on,  and  Mary,  taking  the  work 
of  the  servants  into  her  own  hands,  was  placing  the 
luggage,  fragmentary  and  split  into  small  parcels 
(one  of  them  in  ragged  brown  paper),  under  the  seats 
and  on  the  box. 

"  What  have  you  got  in  that  ? "  she  demanded  se 
verely,  pointing  to  the  brown  paper  parcel. 

"  That  ?  Why,  I  have  really  forgotten  what  is  in 
it,  dear,"  the  Bishop  replied  absently. 

"  His  lordship  packed  that  himself,  miss,"  whis 
pered  one  of  the  servants  apologetically. 

"  Good  gracious !  Have  n't  falways  told  you  that 
you  must  not  pack  things  yourself !  "  she  protested, 

105 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


scrutinizing  the  bundle  and  feeling  its  weight.  "  Ser 
mons  ? "  she  whispered  laughingly,  in  the  Bishop's 
ear,  in  a  voice  not  to  be  overheard.  "Let  us 
see." 

The  string  was  untied,  and  the  contents  of  the 
brown  paper  revealed — the  silver  and  glass  fittings 
of  a  dressing-bag,  wrapped  in  a  pair  of  Episcopal 
stockings.  The  Bishop  clasped  his  hands  before  him 
and  smiled  the  dubious  smile  of  a  child  who  trusts 
that  the  issue  of  a  blunder  may  not  be  without  the 
extenuation  of  humour. 

"  And  what  have  you  done  with  the  dressing-bag 
itself  ? "  cried  Mary,  with  ominous  lips,  as  she  pounced 
upon  that  article  and  opened  it.  Stowed  within  was 
a  pair  of  stout  Episcopal  shoes,  very  white  with  the 
dust  of  yesterday. 

"Yes,  yes,  there  they  are,  to  be  sure,"  said  the 
Bishop  blandly.  "  You  see,  I  had  overlooked 
them,  and  there  was  just  enough  room  for  them 
there." 

Mary  dusted  the  interior  of  the  bag  with  ex 
cessive  vigour,  and  blew  away  from  her  eyes  the 
loose  coils  of  hair  that  escaped  under  the  brim  of  her 
sailor  hat. 

Was  she  going  too  ?  Tyson  asked  himself  uneasily 
and  anxiously.  The  modesty  and  diminutiveness  of 
the  luggage  persuaded  him  to  dispel  that  fear,  how 
ever  ;  it  had  no  signs  of  the  expansive  preparations 
for  all  emergencies  with  which  a  woman  defends  her 
self  for  travel. 

He  had  been  unobserved,  but  now  Mary  saw  him 
standing  in  the  doorway,  and  smiled. 

"Lock  up  your  valuables,  Mr.  Tyson,"  she  said, 
"  but  if  you  lose  anything,  come  to  me,  and  we  can 

106 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


probably  find  it  at  Winsbury.  Uncle  is  n't  a  klepto 
maniac,  but  he  is  very  absent-minded,  and  when  he 
is  leaving  a  house,  and  is  allowed  to  do  his  own  pack 
ing,  strange  things  sometimes  happen.  These  are 
his  own  shoes,  and  this  is  his  own  dressing  bag,  but  I 
am  ashamed  to  say  that  I  cannot  answer  for  what 
may  be  in  the  other  bundles.  In  his  absent-minded 
ness  he  sometimes  picks  up  trifles  that  do  not  belong 
to  him — do  n't  you,  dear  ? — and  though  he  has  no 
felonious  intention  and  we  always  restore  them  to  the 
owners  when  we  find  them,  even  restitution  becomes 
embarrassing. 

Tyson  was  amazed  at  her  audacity  with  the  Bishop, 
and  his  smiling  complaisance. 

"  Come,  come,  Mary,  you  are  leaving  me  without 
a  shred  of  character.  You  must  admit  that  I  of  tener 
leave  my  own  things  behind  than  take  others.  My 
gloves  and  umbrellas  —  " 

"  Yes,  you  do  leave  those  behind,  dear,  but  nobody 
could  possibly  want  them." 

She  made  a  wry  face  at  the  baggy  umbrella  which 
he  carried  under  his  arm,  and  when  she  glanced  at 
his  shabby  gloves  he  pretended  to  hide  them  behind 
his  back.  Then  she  took  his  hands  and  swung  them 
to  and  fro,  and  looked  fondly  into  the  gentle  old  face. 
"  Never,  never  mind.  You  always  leave  one  thing 
behind  that  is  worth  having,  do  n't  you  ? " 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"  Sweetness,  of  course,"  she  declared. 

The  Bishop  was  touched  by  a  childish  shyness  as 
he  shook  his  head,  and  said,  "  Ah,  I  ought  to  be  more 
watchful  of  that  than  of  my  old  gloves  and  umbrel 
las,  and  take  it  with  me  wherever  I  go." 

"  I  guess  you've  got  enough  of  that  to  go  round, 

107 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Bishop,"  Tyson  interposed.  "  You  may  take  it  away, 
but  you  leave  it  behind,  too." 

The  Bishop  rewarded  him  with  a  not  displeased 
glance  and  then  looked  at  his  watch. 

"  Why,  I  have  missed  my  train.  Have  we  time 
to  catch  it,  Hopkins  ? "  he  asked  the  man  on  the 
box. 

"  I  'm  afraid  not,  my  lord,"  the  servant  replied. 

"Well,  after  all,  it  doesn't  matter.  Now  I  have 
an  inspiration.  I  will  let  Hopkins  take  the  luggage 
down  to  Yentnor  and  see  it  labelled,  and  you  and  I, 
Mary,  can  walk  over  the  downs  and  meet  the  train 
at  Wroxall.  Will  you  do  that,  dear?  There's 
nothing  to  prevent  you  ?  Mr.  Tyson,  what  do  you 
say  ?  Will  you  come  with  us  ?  This  morning  air  is 
worth  far  more  than  the  valuation  Keats  put  on  it — 
sixpence  a  pint !  " 

Tyson's  gothic  face,  with  the  round  eyes  gleaming 
under  his  glasses,  turned  eagerly  to  Mary's,  which 
met  his  without  encouragement. 

"  Mr.  Tyson  has  not  had  his  breakfast,  yet,"  she 
said. 

"  Yes,  I  have — that  is,  all  the  breakfast  I  want. 
Certainly  I  '11  go." 

"  Ridiculous ! "  said  Mary  sharply.  "  I  won't  con 
sent  to  it.  You  must  have  your  breakfast." 

"  I  do  n't  care  for  it.  Out  West  we  often  go  with 
out  breakfast." 

"  But  not  here.  I  won't  have  it.  No,  you  must  not 
come.  I  refuse  to  have  you — it's  folly." 

"  Well,  I  '11  have  a  cup  of  tea  and  follow  you — if 
you  do  n't  mind.  May  I  do  that  ?  " 

"  If  you  '11  give  me  your  word  that  you  will  eat 
your  breakfast  properly,  and  not  hurry,  you  may 

108 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


follow  us.    There  !    Perhaps  we  '11  meet  half  way  as 
I  come  back." 

Even  this  compromise  was  delightful  to  Tyson,  and 
"  half  way  "  with  her  more  alluring  than  the  full 
distance  elsewhere. 

The  waggonette  having  started  for  Ventnor,  he 
watched  the  Bishop  and  Mary  depart  by  a  winding 
path  which  led  by  the  back  of  the  house  over  knolls 
of  laurel  and  glossy  holly,  through  rose- wreathed  ar 
cades  and  terraced  gardens  to  the  face  of  the  cliff, 
which  dropped  behind  the  foliage  like  a  crumpled 
satin  curtain.  The  precipice  was  as  sheer  as  a  canon 
wall,  but  instead  of  being  basalt  or  sandstone  it  was' 
chalk  of  a  bluish  yellow,  sprinkled  with  the  scarlet 
of  drifted  poppies.  Steps  had  been  quarried  in  the 
face  of  it,  and  he  watched  the  two  diminishing  figures, 
one  in  black  and  the  other  in  flowery  muslin,  surely 
and  quickly  toiling  upward  until  they  were  high 
above  the  topmost  boughs  of  the  soaring  trees.  Once 
the  figure  in  white  paused  and  rested  alone  in  a 
natural  alcove  framed  in  ivy,  and  it  looked  to  him 
like  the  image  of  a  saint.  Then  both  disappeared 
through  a  tangle  of  hawthorn  which  edged  the  road 
skirting  the  base  of  the  swelling,  treeless,  cloud-like 
downs. 

Tyson  chuckled  as  they  vanished,  for  while  he  had 
been  talking  to  Mary  the  Bishop  had  gone  indoors 
for  some  inevitably  forgotten  possession,  and  had 
come  back  with  Tyson's  brand-new  umbrella  under 
his  arm  in  place  of  his  own,  which  still  lay  on  one 
of  the  hall  chairs. 

Faithful  to  his  word,  Tyson  helped  himself  from 
the  dishes  in  the  silent  breakfast-room,  and  poured 
out  a  cup  of  tea.  He  did  not  care  for  the  food,  but 

109 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


he  did  not  hurry — the  toast  seemed  a  little  bitter,  the 
marmalade  too  sweet,  the  tea  tasteless.  "  I  knew  I 
had  no  appetite,"  he  said  to  himself,  pushing  the 
dishes  from  him,  but  for  all  that  he  was  not  going 
to  press  too  closely  after  Mary  and  the  Bishop. 

Perhaps  she  did  not  want  him  at  all,  and  he  had 
been  intrusive.  What  a  girl  she  was,  anyhow!  As 
simple  and  as  unaffected  as  Nona,  and  yet  behind  all 
the  naturalness  revealed  in  the  playfulness  of  her 
speech  and  manner,  and  in  the  motherly  protective- 
ness  of  her  attitude  towards  her  uncle,  were  the  at 
tainments  of  a  scholar  who  had  taken  a  "  first-class  " 
at  Newnham — a  prodigy  of  feminine  modesty  and  un- 
spectacled  erudition  !  There  was  not  a  bit  of  pose 
about  her,  and  no  ostentation  of  any  kind,  and  yet 
the  look  in  her  eyes  that  he  had  observed  when  she 
was  introduced  to  him  somehow  gave  him  the  idea 
that  she  had  moods  in  which  she  might  be  aloof 
and  inaccessible. 

Lighting  a  cigar,  and  carrying  the  Bishop's  baggy 
umbrella  with  him,  Tyson  leisurely  ascended  the  zig 
zag  steps  at  the  back  of  the  house,  and  when  he 
emerged  on  the  high  way  at  the  top  he  found  a  rustic 
stile  in  the  hedge,  by  which  access  was  given  to  the 
downs.  Bare  of  foliage  and  of  other  vegetation  than 
clumps  of  gorse  and  heath,  and  soft,  springy  turf, 
they  rose  like  the  steep  slopes  of  an  ^  open  'y  canon, 
their  soft  yellowy  green  surface  hanging  like  an  in 
terminable"  curtain  before  his  upraised  eyes.  The 
sea  wind  blew  strong  across  them,  its  droning  now 
pierced  by  the  scream  of  gulls,  and  then  interlaced  by 
the  bleating  of  sheep.  Not  till  he  reached  the  sum 
mit  of  the  seaward  slopes  could  their  true  conforma 
tion  be  seen,  and  there  they  became  visible  as  a  series 

110 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


of  dome-like  hills,  each  swelling  into  the  other,  with 
farms  and  villages  and  woods  tucked  away  in  the 
shallows  between  them.  In  their  smooth  convexity 
they  extended  east  and  west  from  Culver  cliff  to  the 
Needles,  and  were  repeated  in  the  dim  distance  for 
leagues  and  leagues,  ending  only  where  a  pale  blue 
flash  of  water,  flecked  with  the  sails  of  yachts  and 
ships,  marked  the  boundaries  of  the  triangular  island. 
Flowing  in  their  contours,  and  less  heavy  than  earth, 
they  indeed  seemed  like  sleeping  clouds  reposing  in 
the  glow  of  the  sun,  and  likely  to  drift  away  with  the 
virgin  white  and  silver  masses  that  dreamed  in  the 
azure  over  them.  On  the  south  they  faced  a  drowsy 
sea  spreading  to  the  horizon  a  floor  of  turquoise  in 
laid  in  the  shallows  and  shadows  with  patches  of 
amethyst  and  sapphire. 

From  below  any  figure  appearing  against  the  sky 
line  upon  the  ridge  of  the  downs  assumed  gigantic 
proportions  but  upon  the  downs  themselves  it  di 
minished  in  the  openness  of  space  to  less  than  its 
natural  size.  "When  he  had  looked  up  from  the  road 
Tyson  had  seen  two  or  three  such  exaggerated  figures 
stalking  forth  like  giants,  but  now  no  human  being 
was  visible,  nor  hut,  nor  cottage,  nor  shelter,  in  all 
the  sweep  of  undulous  land,  except  the  hamlets  and 
farms  in  the  hollows,  nor  were  there  any  clear  cut 
paths  to  index  Wroxall,  or  lead  the  way  to  that  vil 
lage,  or  to  distinguish  it  from  the  other  villages  in 
distant  view. 

The  clairvoyant  instinct  of  the  trail  revived  in  him, 
and  he  stooped  over  and  studied  the  loose  chalk  and 
the  fine  turf  for  the  sufficiently  different  imprints  of 
such  shoes  as  Mary's  and  the  Bishop's.  The  act  set 
his  mind  whirling  among  other  days  and  other  scenes, 

111 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


but  adept  as  he  was,  it  was  without  profit  and  he 
laughed  at  himself  for  the  obvious  futility  of  his  ex 
periment.  Then  a  plume  of  white  streaming  from  a 
dark  gap  in  one  of  the  creases  of  the  hills  and  a  faint 
reverberation  of  vibrating  metal  indicated  a  railway, 
and  he  went  in  that  direction,  and  found  Wroxall 
without  finding  Mary. 

A  porter  at  the  little  station  had  seen  his  lordship 
go  by  "the  9.53,"  and  the  young  lady  had  walked 
to  the  cottage  yonder,  Mrs.  Yelf's  "  her  as  sold 
sweets  and  tobacco  and  afternoon  teas." 

Mrs.  Yelf's  cottage,  with  its  thatched  roof  and  its 
little  garden  gay  with  sunflowers,  tiger  lilies,  nastur 
tiums,  phlox,  geraniums,  roses,  hollyhocks,  and  sweet- 
williams,  would  have  made  a  pleasing  resting-place 
to  Tyson's  mind,  at  any  time,  and  he  now  entered 
the  gate  with  double  zeal.  Mrs.  Yelf  herself  sat  on 
a  bench  in  a  miniature  rustic  porch  up  the  sides  and  roof 
of  which  a  honeysuckle  meshed  itself  and  spread  its 
scent.  Fair  and  buxom  she  was,  with  a  yellow-haired, 
apple-faced  boy  of  four  strained  to  her  ample  bosom, 
which  billowed  under  her  pink  cotton  gown.  Yes, 
Miss  Leigh  had  been  there — she  often  came  and  had 
tea  there  in  the  afternoon,  and  as  often  not  for  tea, 
but  just  out  of  kindness,  aye,  a  rare  young  lady,  that 
she  was,  as  good  as  gold,  every  bit  of  her,  and  a 
friend  to  every  parish  in  the  island.  "  Eh !  it  was  a 
pity, — but — r 

"  Did  you  notice  which  way  she  went  ? "  Tyson 
asked,  interrupting  the  sing-song  of  the  rising  Hamp 
shire  speech. 

"  Well,  now,  she  do  be  gone  about  an  hour,  or 
more,  or  half  an  hour,  or  it  might  bo  but  twenty 
minutes  and  no  more.  Now,  if  she  did  n't  go  down 

112 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

the  road  Appledurcombe  way,  she  must  have  gone 
up  the  road  toward  Whit  well,  or  by  the  path  to 
Godshill — she  has  a  friend  as  lives  there.  A  great 
young  lady  for  walking  Miss  Leigh  do  be." 

Mrs.  Yelf  went  to  her  gate  and  eagerly  searched 
the  heavens  and  the  earth  for  a  sign,  and  shook  her 
head  dubiously. 

"  You're  sure  she  didn't  go  by  the  downs  ? "  Tyson 
asked. 

"  She  do  be  a  great  one  for  the  downs,  indeed  she 
do." 

Tyson  brought  a  coin  from  his  pocket,  and  when 
he  put  it  into  the  child's  chubby  palm  the  discrimi 
nating  infant,  with  more  knowledge  of  currency  than 
of  letters,  gave  vent  to  surprise. 

"  A  penny ! "  he  cried,  and  then  "  A  chilling  !  " 

Mrs.  Yelf  dropped  a  curtsey  and  pried  the  coin 
out  of  the  fat  fingers  that  were  disposed  to  hold  it. 
"  Eh !  but  you  've  made  a  mistake,  sir.  Look !  It 
is  n't  a  shilling  :  it 's  a  sovereign !  " 

"  That 's  all  right, "  said  Tyson,  as  he  swung  the 
gate.  "  Good  day,  and  good  luck ! " 


113 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  X.     The  Rose  in  Tysons  Pock 
et-book 


H 


E  climbed  the  dowDs  again,  but  in  all 
their  airy  and  scented  reaches  he  could 
not  see  Mary,  and  it  was  after  the 
luncheon  hour  when,  with  the  Bishop's 
bulging  umbrella  still  under  his  arm,  and 
the  little  joke  he  had  meant  to  have  with 
it  frustrated,  he  dispiritedly  picked  his  way  down 
the  face  of  the  cliff  and  entered  the  drawing-room. 

Lilies  and  roses  were  breathing  their  fragrance 
there,  and  a  gentle  wind  and  sunshine,  with  the  chirp 
of  birds  and  the  rustle  of  foliage,  were  pouring  in 
with  a  delicious  effect  of  freedom  and  repose. 

Lady  Cheam  was  seated  in  an  easy  chair  at  a  little 
ormolu  table,  on  which  there  was  a  prayer-book,  its 
jewelled  clasp  unfastened  and  its  pages  opened,  as 
though  it  had  been  in  recent  use.  A  nectarine, 
a  little  silver  and  pearl  fruit-knife,  and  a  French 
novel  with  a  wanton  revelation  of  feminine  charms 
on  its  yellow  cover — also  turned  down  at  a  flagging 
page — afforded  further  resources  of  relief  from  any 
tedium  in  the  embroidery  which  occupied  the  dainty 

114 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


little  lady,  who  in  lavender  silk,  and  with  one  infan 
tile  foot  projected  from  a  frothy  rim  of  lace,  made  a 
picture  of  fragile  Dresden  prettiness. 

"Miss  Leigh  hasn't  come  back?"  he  asked,  with 
some  precipitation,  mannishly  unaware  of  the  delay 
involved  in  detaching  the  mind  from  the  rites  of  the 
needle. 

Lady  Cheam  raised  her  eyes  slowly  out  of  the 
familiar  trance  in  which  a  difficult  cross-stitch  is 
made,  and  as  she  appeared  to  awake,  deftly  closed 
the  French  novel  and  slipped  it  upon  a  lower  shelf  of 
the  table. 

"  I  am  sure  I  do  n't  know  where  she  is.  That  girl 
races  about  the  country  like  a  truant  boy.  She  spends 
hours  and  hours  and  hours  on  the  downs  when  she 
is  here — never  wants  to  do  what  others  do.  Won't 
drive,  won't  ride — will  walk  and  climb.  Some  day 
she'll  have  an  accident.  People  who  have  accidents 
are  usually  very  selfish.  They  ought  all  to  be 
Christian  Scientists,  and  then  they  could  set  their  own 
legs." 

"  An  accident  ?    How  ? " 

"  She  is  so  foolhardy.  The  downs  are  not  unsafe, 
but  she  is  always  going  where  she  ought  not  to  go — 
up  and  clown  some  chine  or  other — ravine,  you  know 
—and  the  more  dangerous  it  is  the  better  she  pre 
tends  to  like  it." 

Tyson  listened,  and  strode  from  his  chair  to  the 
window,  from  which  one  of  the  billowy  slopes  was 
visible.  He  returned,  and  repeated  to  Lady  Cheam 
the  circumstances  of  the  Bishop's  departure. 

His  imagination  prefigured  various  possible 
mishaps,  and  his  impulse  was  to  at  once  leave  Lady 
Cheam  to  the  choice  of  the  prayer-book,  the  nec- 

115 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


tarine,  or  the  novel,  which  he  had  observed  with  a 
quizzing  smile. 

"  I  guess  I  '11  go  and  see  if  I  can  find  her,"  he 
said. 

"What  do  you  think  of  her  ?  Do  you  like  her  ?  " 
Lady  Cheam  inquired  with  a  little  laugh. 

Tyson  was  taken  by  surprise,  and  faltered  in 
answering.  "  She  reminds  me  of  a  girl  I  know  out 
West — reminds  me  of  her  in  ever  so  many  things,  and 
yet  they  are  different,  as  different  as  any  two  girls 
could  be." 

His  brow  puckered,  and  he  was  partly  unwilling, 
partly  unable,  to  discriminate  to  his  interlocutor,  or 
to  himself.  "She 's  a  mighty  nice  girl,  anyhow,"  he 
affirmed  presently.  "  No  airs.  So  sensible." 

"  Sensible !  Scurrying  over  the  downs  like  a  mad 
cap — full  of  all  sorts  of  notions !  " 

"Unconventional.  That's  what  I  like,"  Tyson 
averred.  "  As  I  said  to  the  Bishop,  she  seems  like 
an  American." 

"  Do  n't  you  think  she  is  just  a  little  affected, 
a  little  self-conscious?"  Lady  Cheam  continued. 
"  Some  people  think  so.  Lady  Komer — " 

"  Oh,  Lady  Komer !  "  Tyson's  exclamation  was 
scornfully  eloquent. 

"  Lady  Eomer  is  a  very  clever  judge  of  character. 
You  do  n't  like  her  ?  She  is  nasty  at  times,  but  then 
the  poor  dear  suffers  so  much  from  ill-health  that 
one  must  be  charitable." 

Tyson  was  unmoved  by  the  excuse  for  Lady  Homer, 
and  held  on  to  the  more  engaging  theme.  "  She 
must  be  a  good  girl  as  well  as  a  clever  one.  The 
Bishop  told  me — " 

"  The  Bishop  spoils  her." 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 

"  She  keeps  house  for  him  does  n't  she  ? " 

"  The  Bishop  is  a  widower  without  any  children, 
and  Mary  is  an  orphan,  the  daughter  of  his  only 
brother,  Colonel  Leigh.  I  suppose  she  is  useful  at  the 
Palace,  and  does  sometimes  keep  the  poor  dear  from 
losing  his  head,  or  mislaying  it,  or  doing  it  up  in 
those  shocking  brown  paper  parcels  that  he  is  always 
carrying  about  with  him.  She  is  rather  domestic. 
Do  you  think  she  is  pretty  ? " 

"  Pretty  ?    Why,  of  course  she  is." 

"  How  strange !  Some  people  think  she  is  not  pretty 
at  all.  Her  nose  is  too  short,  and  she  has  no  figure. 
When  they  were  children  Julian  used  to  call  her 
*  Needles '  or  '  Nettles, '  because  — "  Lady  Cheam 
laughed,  "she  was  so  thin  and  prickly." 

Tyson  was  not  amused  at  this,  and  for  the  first 
time  experienced  a  touch  of  resentment  against  Ju 
lian  and  a  loss  of  confidence  in  his  taste. 

"  She  has  got  a  very  sharp  tongue.    Some  people —  " 

Tyson  interrupted. 

"  Not  what  I  should  call  a  sharp  tongue  "  he  pro 
tested.  "  I  should  call  her  witty — perhaps  a  little  bit 
sarcastic.  See  how  she  scored  off  Gleg  the  other  night 
at  dinner.  He  had  no  show  with  her."  He  paused, 
and  slowly  and  abstractedly  asked  another  question, 
in  dubiety  as  to  its  propriety.  "  I  guess  the  Bishop 's 
very  wealthy  ? " 

"The  Bishop  wealthy!  You  don't  know  how 
indigent,  how  poverty-stricken  we  all  are  in  England, 
from  Royalty  down  to  poor  little  nobodies  like 
Julian  and  me  !  I  fancy  the  Bishop  is  little  better 
off  now  than  when  he  was  a  curate." 

"  He  must  have  a  large  income.  What  does  he  do 
with  it  ? " 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Gives  it  away,  poor  dear.  And  Mary  encourages 
him. " 

This  information  was  a  crumb  of  comfort  to  Tyson. 

"  Well,  I  'm  off,  "  he  said,  but  Lady  Cheam  pick 
ing  a  flower  and  putting  it  in  the  lapel  of  his  coat 
again  detained  him. 

"  You  are  a  dear  good  boy, "  she  declared.  "  Ah 
— any  news?  Have  you  heard  anything  from — 
fromSheba?" 

"  There 's  nothing  to  hear,"  he  replied. 

"  Nothing  to  hear  ?  I  do  n't  understand.  You 
did  n't  buy  those  shares  for  me  ? " 

"Certainly,  I  did." 

"  And  have  they  gone  up  ? " 

"  I  do  n't  know.     Do  n't  you  worry  about  it." 

u  Ah,  I  can  see  in  your  face  that  they  will  go  up ! 
You  are  teasing  me,"  she  cried,  finding  relief  through 
implication.  "  Now,  about  that  what-do-you-call-it  ? 
— the  margin  ?  You  can  wait  for  that,  can't  you  ? 
You  shall  have  it,  of  course,  very  soon,  but  at  present — " 

"  That 's  all  right,  Lady  Cheam ;  don't  worry  about 
that  either.  Just  sit  still  and  do  n't  think  about  it 
at  all." 

She  waved  her  little  hand  to  him  as  he  mounted 
the  steps.  "  Good-bye !  Do  n't  be  late  for  dinner." 

From  what  he  had  heard  Lady  Cheam  say,  Tyson 
believed  that  he  need  not  expect  to  find  Mary  in  the 
open  spaces  of  the  downs,  and  that  if  she  was  to  be 
found  at  all  it  would  be  in  one  of  the  rougher  places 
where  the  undulous  land  broke  into  the  undercliff 
and  the  sea.  Accordingly  when  he  reached  the  sum 
mit  and  looked  about  him  he  chose  as  a  likely  place  a 
semi- circular  hollow,  in  which  the  periphery  of  the 
other  hills  had  been  arrested.  It  seemed  as  though 

118 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


in  the  cosmic  whirl  of  their  foundation  this  vortex 
had  been  left  incomplete,  a  concavity  amid  their  con 
vexities.  Midway  in  its  slope  was  a  spring,  and  the 
rivulet  thus  formed  gave  water  and  shelter  to  a  sol 
itary  farm,  which  looked  like  a  green  rosette  breasted 
upon  its  close-cropped  and  bleak  surroundings.  Lower 
down,  the  stream  rapidly  deepened,  and  from  a  ford 
to  be  crossed  by  stepping-stones  it  plunged  into  a 
dark,  wooded  ravine,  and  there  in  secret,  and  by 
many  leaps  and  turnings  under  overarching  boughs, 
spouted  and  fell  among  the  green-bearded  boulders 
of  a  brown,  cliff-crowned  beach. 

Tyson  entered  the  cool  shade  by  a  steep  slippery 
path  overhung  and  choked  by  the  boughs  and  bram 
bles,  and  drenched  by  the  dim  green  mist  into  which 
all  light  was  turned  in  sifting  through  the  inter 
laced  foliage.  Above  and  below  rose  the  smooth, 
grey  moss-covered  columns  of  soaring  beeches,  the 
reddish  trunks  of  storm-beaten  oaks,  and  the  slender, 
glistening  shafts  of  swaying  birches.  Pigeons  were 
murmuring  overhead,  and  from  the  depths  came  the 
drip  and  gurgle  of  the  hidden  stream. 

Tyson's  instincts  had  not  misled  him,  and  as  he 
pushed  through  the  thicket  to  an  opening  he  saw 
Mary,  with  her  back  towards  him,  seated  on  a  rocky 
ledge  overlooking  the  sea.  Her  elbows  were  resting 
on  her  knees,  and  her  chin  was  cradled  in  her  palms 
— the  attitude  of  dreams.  Pleasure  gave  him  a  for 
ward  impulse,  and  then  he  hesitated.  What  was  this 
strange  heaviness  that  he  before  now  had  felt  in  her 
presence  ?  He  desired  to  be  near  her,  and  yet  some 
times  when  he  was  in  her  company  his  heart  sank 
and  his  spirits  fell  in  a  longing  that  had  no  hope  and 
no  courage  in  it. 

119 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


He  stood  still  and  smiled  faintly.     "  Ahem ! " 

She  turned  and  nodded.  "  Ahem !  Then  you 
did  n't  follow  me  to  Wroxall  after  all.  That  was 
sensible." 

"  Oh,  but  I  did  follow  you.  I  followed  you  all 
morning ;  guess  I  got  lost  among  the  foot-hills.  These 
downs  remind  me  of  the  foot-hills." 

"  I  thought  you  people  of  the  far  West  never  lost 
yourselves — that  you  were  all  like  scouts  and  Indi 
ans,  and  able  to  follow  the  lightest  foot-step  by  its 
imprint,  to  find  finger-posts  in  blades  of  grass  and 
mile-stones  in  grains  of  sand.  Can't  you  do  that  ? 
And  won't  you  sit  down  ? "  she  said,  moving  to  make 
room  for  him,  and  gathering  her  skirts. 

^ "  No,  I  'm  not  as  smart  as  all  that,  though  I  have 
hit  the  trail  in  my  day.  This  is  doing  pretty  well, 
however — to  find  you  now.  Do  you  know,  we  were 
beginning  to 'be  a  bit  anxious  about  you  ?  " 

"We?    Who?" 

"Ah— why,  Lady  Cheam— both  of  us,"  he  replied, 
explaining  that  he  had  been  back  to  Culvercombe 
since  morning. 

"  Absurd,"  she  said.  «  See,  that  moss  is  wet !  You 
can  sit  here." 

That  brought  him  closer  to  her,  and  while  he 
changed  his  position  and  she  watched  him,  a  hot  flush 
struggled  indistinctly  through  the  tan  in  his  rugged 
visage.  His  limited  knowledge  of  women  was  wholly 
unsophisticated,  and  he  would  have  resented  as  heresy 
any  cynical  hint  that  coquetry  persists  in  the  sex  from 
the  time  of  the  first  lisp  to  the  extremity  of  the  last 
wrinkle,  and  that  though  they  may  change  or  abandon 
their  faiths,  their  affections,  or  their  morals,  this 
blandishment  is  practised  as  irresistibly  as  breathing 

120 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


to  the  very  end  of  their  days.  He  had  not  seen  any 
coquetry  in  Mary,  and  a  more  experienced  observer 
would  not  have  been  entirely  safe  in  predicting  it  from 
her  present  actions. 

"  i  ou  smoke,  do  n't  you  ?  A  pipe  ?  I  do  n't  mind. 
There ! "  she  said,  with  the  satisfaction  of  a 
person  ministering  adequately  to  her  own  comfort. 
Then  glancing  at  her  watch,  "  Now  we  can  talk. 
You've  had  your  tea?  I  had  mine  at  the  farm. 
Yes,  that  trail-hunting,  or  whatever  you  call  it,  must 
be  fascinating;  it  must  be  like  navigating  without 
the  aid  of  logarithms,  or  scientific  instruments, 
marching  on  your  way  and  turning  darkness  into 
light  by  the  triumph  of  your  mere  senses,  the  senses 
of  touch,  scent  and  sight.  That  is  splendid ;  it  makes 
one  think  of  Ulysses,  and  of  the  wild  surmise  of 
Cortez,  or  Balboa,  was  n't  it  ? — on  the  peak  in 
Darien.  That  is  what  I  should  like  to  do — hit  the 
trail." 

She  spoke  so  tumultuously  that  a  pink  glowed  over 
her  pale,  transparent  face,  and  a  new  hope  rushed  in 
on  Tyson. 

"  It  is  n't  so  wonderful ;  it 's  learned  easily  enough. 
"When  I  was  a  boy  under  twenty  I  was  alone,  on  the 
trail  and  off  the  trail,  for  months  at  a  time.  Look 
here,  Miss  Mary,  why  do  n't  you  come  out  there  ? 
Nona — Miss  Plant — would  be  pleased  to  see  you,  and 
so  would  the  Senator,  and  I — why,  you  do  n't  mean  it, 
do  you?" 

"  Oh,  I  should  like  to  see  those  plains  and  those 
mountains,  and  feel  as  if  I  had  all  the  world  to  my 
self,  as  one  must  do  in  those  great  spaces." 

"  You  could  come.  It  would  be  easy  enough — 
dead  easy,  as  we  say — with  a  chaperon.  Nona  her- 

121 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


self  is  as  good  as  a  chaperon.  She  '11  take  care  of 
you." 

"  Chaperon !  "  cried  Mary  disdainfully.  "  A  chap 
eron  among  the  stars !  " 

"  Well,  that 's  the  way  Nona  feels  herself,  but  the 
Senator  insisted  on  a  chaperon  for  her,  and  it  was 
a  good  thing  for  Mrs.  Dennison  anyway.  But,  say ! 
Do  n't  expect  too  much.  It 's  fine  out  there — no  deny 
ing  that — but  give  me  old  England.  I  prefer  to  be 
here — yes,  I  prefer  it  every  time !  " 

"  Ah,  those  transports  of  yours !  I  believe  I  should 
like  Miss  Plant.  I  like  original  people,  people  who 
think  for  themselves,  people  who  do  something  in  the 
world." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  'd  like  her.  Everybody  does.  There 
are  not  many  girls  like  Nona. 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what ! "  he  said,  returning  to  the 
trail.  "It  is  n't  in  desert  places  that  the  trail  is 
hard  to  find — it  is  in  the  crowded  places — in  cities — 
like  London ;  in  countries,  like  England." 

"Everywhere,"  she  assented,  "there  are  trails  that 
baffle  one  and  lead  to  nowhere.  That 's  the  reason 
we  so  often  miss  the  goal  we  are  seeking — that  so 
many  things  go  wrong  in  the  world." 

"  That 's  so,"  he  said,  with  his  eyes  on  the  silky 
sea  and  his  thoughts  far  away.  "  I  've  got  a  sister. 
You  know  that  ?  Did  Lady  Cheam  happen  to  speak 
of  her  to  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  I  am  very  much  interested.  You  can't 
learn  anything  about  her  ? " 

"  Not  so  far.  I  've  had  inquiries  made  by  a  firm 
of  solicitors;  I've  made  inquiries  myself." 

"  And  you  find  no  clue  as  to  her  whereabouts  ? " 

Tyson  had  reasons  for  his  procrastination  in  an 

122 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


obvious  duty — for  delaying  it  as  he  had  done  from 
day  to  day  ;  but  he  could  not  explain  them  to  her, 
and  could  only  shake  his  head  and  submit  to  the 
sharp  pain  of  self-reproach. 

"  Have  n't  you  been  to  the  home,  the  institution  in 
which  she  was  placed,"  Mary  continued. 

"  Not  yet,"  he  stammered.  "  I  went  to  Wakeport 
— that 's  the  town — the  day  I  landed,  and  meant  to 
return  there  after  seeing  Lady  Oheam,  but — I've 
lingered  here  somehow  because — " 

"You  ought  not  to  delay.  You  should  lose  no 
time,  not  a  moment ! "  she  said,  with  an  emphasis 
which  expressed  both  impatience  and  reproof. 
"  Come !  We  are  late,"  and  she  rose  so  quickly  and 
with  such  energy  that  she  herself  seemed  to  be  bent 
on  the  search  that  he  had  put  off. 

"  Yes,"  he  admitted  as  he  followed  her.  "  You 
are  quite  right.  I  '11  start  to-morrow." 

They  emerged  from  the  thicket  and  struck  out 
over  the  slant  of  the  downs  in  the  direction  of  Bon- 
church.  The  sea  had  deepened  into  a  vivid  green, 
crisped  by  white  feathery  waves,  and  the  sun,  though 
it  was  still  reflected  in  the  silver  ripples,  had  sloped 
behind  the  summit  to  which  they  were  ascending. 
Tyson  was  taciturn,  but  there  were  moments  when 
not  touch,  nor  voice,  nor  vision  was  necessary  to  sus 
tain  this  companionship,  in  which  when  there  was  no 
speech  there  seemed  to  be  no  reticence.  But  the 
felicity  did  not  endure.  There  was  a  consciousness 
of  instability  and  evanescence  in  his  pleasure  as 
of  things  that,  portending  joy,  pass  in  pain  as  soon 
as  they  come,  and  though  he  could  not  define 
it  he  breathed  under  the  weight  of  a  strange  dis 
quiet. 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Cheer  up ! "  cried  Mary.  "  You  have  many  rea 
sons  to  be  cheerful,  much  to  make  you  content." 

"I've  made  money.  You  do  n't  consider  that  a 
great  achievement,  nor  any  great  recommendation, 
do  you  ? " 

"  I  am  afraid  gold  has  some  quality  in  it  that  oc 
casionally  turns  it  to  lead  in  the  soul,  but  that  does 
not  happen  if  it  is  properly  used.  Money  makes 
splendid  opportunity." 

"  Show  me  an  opportunity,"  he  demanded,  with  a 
tremor  in  his  voice,  and  then  with  a  knitted  brow 
and  a  darkened  face  :  "  No,  money  will  not  do  for 
me  what  I  'd  like.  I  've  plenty  of  it — But  a  youth 
such  as  mine  was  leaves  scars  and  keeps  a  man  at  a 
disadvantage.  I  do  n't  deceive  myself — money 
does  n't  always  count." 

He  kicked  at  a  bare  patch  of  loose  chalk  and  dis 
lodged  the  flint  embedded  in  it.  Then  he  added, 
"  Tell  me  how  to  make  use  of  some,  and  I  '11  do 
it." 

"  Perhaps  I  can  do  that ;  they  say  I  am  a  shame 
less  beggar,"  she  answered,  "  but  I  did  n't  mean  to 
beg  from  you  at  this  moment.  I  was  thinking — 
you  must  n't  lose  faith  in  yourself  or  in  your  ideals. 
Your  opportunities,  if  you  choose  to  use  them — 
Look ! " 

They  were  on  the  highest  ridge  of  the  downs,  and 
in  the  dusk  the  clouds  had  shaped  themselves  into  a 
golden  archipelago  held  in  a  bowl  of  lilac  sea.  The 
light  was  dwindling,  and  in  the  shadow  the  downs 
had  become  tawny,  and  the  patches  of  purple  heath 
like  smouldering  fires.  Suddenly  a  star  dawned  in 
the  purple  lagoon  of  air,  steady  and  clear  amidst  all 
the  blended  colour.  Higher  and  higher  it  seemed  to 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


rise  and  drift  towards  the  middle  of  the  aerial  lake, 
swelling  in  radiance  and  apparently  projected  en 
ticingly  towards  the  earth  by  a  phantom  arm. 

Tyson  felt  the  thrill  of  Mary's  fingers  on  his  wrist, 
and  as  he  turned  at  her  exclamation  he  saw  her  eyes 
fixed  on  the  star. 

"  Look !  there  is  the  hilt  of  a  sword  in  the  lake. 
Excalibur!"  she  whispered. 

She  was  out  of  breath,  and  they  sat  down  for  a 
moment  on  one  of  the  furrows  which  the  beating  of 
wind  and  rain  had  creased  in  the  turf.  She  became 
silent,  and  as  he  mused  in  company  with  her  he  took 
out  a  pocket-book  and  turned  over  the  memoranda 
in  it,  a  habit  that  often  overtook  him  in  moments  of 
abstraction.  There  were  addresses  in  it,  clippings 
from  newspapers,  the  tables  of  a  mining  engineer, 
and  a  calendar.  A  faded  flower  slipped  out — its 
stalk  dry  and  brown,  with  only  one  petal  clinging  to 
it,  and  that  stained  and  sear. 

Mary  watched  him  pick  it  up,  and  said,  "What  is 
that  ?  A  bit  of  seaweed  ? " 

"  No,  not  seaweed,"  he  replied,  as  he  put  it  back 
into  its  place.  "  It  is  a  rose." 

"  A  rose  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  rose  you  chaffed  me  about ;  the  rose 
you  dropped  in  the  drawing  room  that  morning." 

He  made  his  confession  with  some  unsteadiness, 
and  looked  furtively,  hesitatingly,  at  her  for  the  ef 
fect.  She  did  not  change  colour,  but  in  one  ejacula 
tion  he  seemed  to  hear  the  reverberation  of  arctic 
ice  in  a  northern  night. 

"  How  late  we  are !  Lady  Cheam  will  be  vexed," 
she  said  ;  "  we  have  been  out  too  long." 

125 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XL         Tyson  Meets  a  Modern 
Financier 


T    U    \YSO~N  left  Culvercombe  early  the  next 
day,  and  later  in  the  morning  was  the 
subject  of  discussion  in  the  still-room, 
where  Prawle,  the  footman  who  had  "  va- 
*          leted"    him,    and  Brixton,   the    butler, 
stretched  their  legs  and  refreshed  them 
selves,  the  former  with  a  tankard  of  ale,  and  the 
latter,  his  elder  and  superior,  with  a  glass  of  port  and 
a  biscuit. 

"  Not  a  bad  sort,"  said  Prawle,  in  a  tone  of  indul 
gence,  "  and  wonderful  to  think  what  he 's  made  of 
himself." 

"  Treated  you  'andsomely,  I  'ope,  Robert  ? " 
"  A  ten  pun  note.     I  cannot  complain,  though  he 
might  have  made  it  twenty  while  he  was  at  it." 
"Oh,  well,  he '11  be  back." 

"  That 's  what  I  am  looking  forward  to — that 's 
what  I  'm  thinkin '  of.  He 's  haff  able,  I  can  say  that, 
and  not  difficult  to  get  along  with.  He  actually 
slapped  me  on  the  back  once,  and  called  me  '  old 
fellow.'  What  do  you  say  to  that  3  " 

"  Too  familiar ;  too  familiar,  Robert ;  but  that 's 

126 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


the  way  with  those  Americans.  I  should  object  my 
self  to  being  slapped  on  the  back.  Bad  form,  do  n't 
you  think  ?  I  was  always  particular  myself  as  to 
matters  of  form." 

"  P'raps  it  is  ;  p'raps  it  is.  But  I  'oodwink  it  in 
this  case.  Why  should  n't  he  do  somethink  for  us — 
somethink  'andsome?  In  fact,"  said  Robert,  stretch 
ing  his  legs  as  far  as  they  would  go,  and  questioning 
his  shoes,  "  I  mean  to  see  if  he  cawn't  put  me  on  to 
a  little  <  flyer '  in  Wall  Street." 

Mr.  Brixton  held  up  his  port  to  the  light  and 
shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  never  spec'late,  Robert. 
A  little  bit  on  the  'osses  is  more  to  my  taste ;  much 
more  gentlemanly  than  speculating  in  stock." 

"  But  they  're  all  at  it  in  these  days,  every  man 
Jack  of  them.  Her  ladyship  buzzes  about  him  like 
a  fly  in  a  pot  of  treacle.  I  heard  her  advising  that 
old  cat,  Lady  Homer,  to  buy  Sheba.  The  only  ones 
that  took  no  interest  in  it  were  the  Bishop  and  Miss 
Leigh." 

"  And  pray  what  is  Sheba  ?  Copper,  gold,  silver, 
lead,  or  what  might  it  be  ? " 

"  Blest  if  I  know ;  but  the  next  time  I  'm  slapped 
on  the  back  I  mean  to  get  some  of  it." 

Mr.  Brixton  poured  out  another  glass  of  port  and 
put  it  up  to  his  clean-shaven,  sacerdotal,  drooping 
mouth  with  the  leisurely  gusto  of  an  epicure.  "  Well, 
well,  if  you  hear  any  think  let  me  know.  If  her  lady 
ship  can  make  a  bit  out  of  it,  God  knows  we  need  it. 
Langdale  's  in  a  very  bad  way,  I  'm  told,  and  here 
things  are  going  from  bad  to  worse.  Any  news  from 
Julian  ?  I  suppose  we  are  indebted  to  him  for  our 
introduction  to  our  curious  friend,  Tyson  ? " 

"  I  forgot  to  tell  you,"  replied  Prawle.  "  Julian 
127 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


won't  come  back — things  won't  blow  over  this  time 
as  they  've  done  before.  I  met  Captain  Hugh  Dun- 
mail's  man  when  I  was  in  Portsmouth  yesterday — 
General  Dunmail's  brother,  you  know.  Captain  Dun- 
mail  's  sworn  to  kill  Julian  at  sight.  Barker  told  me 
her  ladyship  was  crying  this  morning.  I  take  it  that 
she  has  had  the  same  news ;  poor  woman." 

Brixton  replenished  his  glass  to  steady  himself  in 
the  shock.  "  Kill  Julian !  Julian  owes  me  two 
hundred  pounds  if  he  owes  me  a  penny,"  he  cried. 
«  Oh,  this  is  'ard,  'ard,  'ard ! " 

The  slender  stem  of  the  glass  broke  from  the  force 
with  which  he  put  it  down.  "  That 's  a  bad  sign  too ! " 
he  raved.  "  Hold  on,  though  !  Tyson  seems  extra 
ordinary  fond  of  Julian.  Now  if  I  could  get  the  cir 
cumstances  into  his  ear — who  knows? — he  might 
make  the  money  good !  Excuse  my  langwidge,  Rob 
ert  ; "  (his  language  became  profane) "  but  really  after 
what  you  tell  me  you  could  knock  me  over  with  a 
feather." 

"  Do  n't  mention  it,  old  chap,  don't  mention  it. 
Should  n't  be  surprised  if  you  was  right,  and  he  made 
it  good  to  you.  I  must  say  that  for  a  money-spinner 
he  does  seem  to  be  a  bit  of  a  simpleton." 

Meanwhile  Tyson  had  made  the  pleasant  journey 
from  Yentnor  to  Waterloo,  over  the  emerald  waters 
of  S  pithead  and  through  the  rural  beauties  of  Hamp 
shire  and  Surrey,  and  he  was  now  on  the  departure 
platform  of  the  Liverpool  train  at  Euston.  A  porter 
found  an  empty  compartment  in  a  first-class  carriage 
for  him,  and  he  expected  to  have  it  for  himself,  but 
as  the  train  moved  out  of  the  station  a  footman 
opened  the  door  and  hurriedly  placed  on  the  unoccu 
pied  seat  a  dressing-bag,  a  mackintosh,  and  a  lunch- 

128 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


eon  basket.  As  the  footman  alighted  and  touched 
his  cockaded  hat  his  master  jumped  in,  and  dropping 
breathlessly  into  a  corner,  replaced  his  silk  hat  with 
a  soft  travelling  cap.  Tyson  was  occupied  with  his 
reading,  and  only  indistinctly  aware  of  these  proceed 
ings  :  he  was  screened  by  his  newspaper,  and  did  not 
put  it  down  until  the  train  had  passed  Willesden  and 
was  spinning  along  through  the  fair  green  country 
that  never  lost  its  fascination  for  him — the  fields  that 
seemed  to  have  been  washed,  combed  and  brushed ; 
the  low-branched  wide-spreading  trees,  with  their  im 
penetrable  foliage,  that  looked  as  though  they  were 
carved  or  hewn  masses  of  sculpture  rather  than  of 
vegetation ;  the  interminable  nedgerows  setting  a 
jewelled  border  to  every  lane  and  meadow  ;  the  neat 
little  stations  with  their  flashing  beds  and  embank 
ments  of  flowers ;  and  the  sleepy,  toy -like  villages, 
which,  dozing  snugly  in  hollows  and  on  hill-sides, 
communicated  to  him  the  conviction  and  solace  of 
Arcadian  simplicity  and  peace. 

The  country  enthralled  him,  and  he  had  been  gazing 
through  the  window  some  time  before  he  glanced  at 
his  fellow  passenger,  who  had  fallen  asleep  in  the 
corner  of  the  opposite  side  of  the  compartment.  He 
was  a  familiar  type  of  a  "  city  "  man — of  the  kind 
that  swarms  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Lombard  street 
and  the  Royal  Exchange,  well  tailored,  virile  in  move 
ment  and  fastidiously  groomed.  The  grey  frock  suit 
fitted  him  to  perfection,  and  a  rich  crimson  scarf 
deepened  the  glow  of  plethora  in  his  florid,  dark- 
bearded  face.  Tyson  recognized  the  type,  which 
nationality  varies  in  manners  of  speech  and  dress  but 
not  in  fundamental  characteristics.  He  was  conscious 
of  a  degree  of  sympathy  with  it,  or  at  least  with  the 
i  129 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


dogged,  tireless  energy  with  which  such  a  man  would 
resist  antagonism. 

"I've  seen  you  often  before,"  Tyson  thought. 
"  I  've  seen  you  in '  the  pit '  in  Chicago,  and  I  've  seen 
you  hundreds  of  times  in  Wall  Street,  and  it  was  only 
the  other  day  that  I  saw  you  (scores  of  you)  in  front 
of  the  Koyal  Exchange." ' 

Then  Tyson's  memory  fixed  on  something  more 
definite,  and  he  became  sure  that  somewhere  at  a  dis 
tance  and  at  some  time  not  recent  but  remote,  he  had 
seen  not  merely  the  type,  but  the  individual  before 
him.  The  sleeping  man  had  undergone  some  change, 
that  was  all.  What  change  ? 

Ah,  it  was  the  heavy,  nicely  cropped,  dark  beard. 
That  was  it,  and  in  addition  to  that  the  evidences  of 
improved  circumstances.  Then  Tyson's  eye  caught 
the  gold-mounted  dressing-bag  in  the  rack,  and  below 
the  crest  embossed  on  its  morocco  sides  he  unravelled 
a  monogram  of  two  initials — "  J.  P." 

It  was  Pewster ! 

Pewster  slowly  opened  his  eyes  and  glared  in  a 
momentary  stupefaction. 

"  Well,  well,  well !  "  he  then  exclaimed,  offering 
his  hand  and  gushing  on  Tyson  with  intimate  friend 
liness.  "  Why,  Jim,  old  boy,  is  that  you  ?  Lucky  I 
knew  you  were  on  this  side,  for  if  I  had  n't,  and  had 
suddenly  seen  you  sitting  there  as  large  as  life  when 
I  awoke,  I  should  certainly  have  thought  you  were 
a  spook,  or  a  portrait  model  from  Madame  Tussaud's. 
So  you  're  back  on  your  native  heath  at  last!  Well, 
well,  well !  Oh,  I  've  heard  all  about  you  !  Lady 
C beam's  reticence  did  n't  keep  me  in  darkness — nice 
woman  she  is,  eh  ?  '  Pon  my  soul,  I  meant  to  look 
you  up  and  invite  you  to  my  little  place  on  the  river, 

130 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


and  you  've  got  to  see  my  little  house  in  Park  Lane. 
I  suppose  you  've  heard  something  about  me,  too  ? 
Well,  my  boy,  Me  Too  has  n't  been  idle  since  he  came 
back  from  the  South-West.  Me  Too  has  made  him 
self  a  shining  example  to  the  youth  of  the  land  of 
what  industry  and  other  virtues  will  do.  They  want 
him  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  who  knows  ? 
I  'm  not  boasting,  but,  my  boy — but — are  you  listen 
ing  ? — there  may  be  a  coronet  for  him  yet.  His  little 
maxims  are  quoted  in  the  newspapers,  his  picture  is 
in  The  Graphic  and  The  Illustrated  London  News. 
They  smile  upon  Pewster  nowadays  and  respect  him 
— and,"  he  added,  with  a  changing,  scowling  face,  as 
he  withdrew  his  unshaken  hand,  "  most  of  them  are 
civil  to  him." 

Tyson  was  silent,  and  Pewster  unstrapped  his  elab 
orately  fitted  luncheon  basket  and  brought  forth  a 
dish  (A  pate  defoie  gras  and  a  small  bottle  of  cham 
pagne. 

"  Have  a  drink,"  he  said,  as  he  poured  out  two 
glasses  of  the  wine  and  held  out  one  to  Tyson,  who 
shook  his  head  and  turned  to  the  whirling  panorama 
through  the  windows. 

"  No  ?  Now,  look  here,  Jim  Tyson,  what  the  devil 's 
the  matter  with  you  ?  I  've  been  talking  to  you,  for 
old  times'  sake,  as  I  would  n't  talk  to  any  other  man 
alive.  What 's  the  matter  with  you  ?  Do  you  think 
that  I  'm  the  same  man  now  that  I  was  when  I  kept 
books  for  you  at  a  hundred  dollars  a  month  and  took 
your  orders  at  Sheba?  Are  you  blind?  Are  you 
the  same  old  muddlehead  and  blunderer  you  were 
out  there  ?  Can't  you  see  ?  Can't  you  hear  ?  " 

Tyson  was  making  a  resolute  effort  to  control  him 
self. 

131 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Well,  I  guess  you  are  just  about  the  same,"  he 
said.  "  You  do  n't  seem  to  have  changed  much.  You 
are  still  drinking.  Probably  you  now  pay  for  your 
drinks  out  of  your  own  pocket.  Whose  money  it  is 
I  do  n't  know.  I  should  n't  wonder  if  you  got  it  from 
lambs  like  Julian  Glynne." 

He  picked  up  his  paper  again  and  coolly  looked  at 
it,  but  not  without  a  covert  and  wary  preparation 
for  surprises. 

"  Look  here,  Tyson,  the  law  of  libel  is  not  settled 
in  England  with  a  gun  as  it  is  out  West." 

"  Ah,  it  sounds  strange  to  hear  you  talk  of  the  law. 
You  did  n't  have  much  respect  for  it  when  I  knew 
you  at  Sheba  and  in  Santa  Fe." 

The  crimson  of  Pewster's  face  darkened  into  pur 
ple. 

"  Bah  !  You  make  me  tired,"  he  cried.  "  What 
do  you  know  about  Julian  Glynne  ? " 

"  He 's  a  friend  of  mine.  It  is  in  his  power  to  put 
you  in  jail.  I  '11  advise  him  to  do  it." 

Pewster  laughed  derisively.  "  In  jail,  eh  ?  And 
for  what?" 

"  Procuring  money  under  false  pretences  for  one 
thing — selling  him  that  which  did  not  belong  to 
you." 

Pewster  pondered,  and  drank  a  glass  of  the  cham 
pagne,  before  he  began  again  in  a  calmer  voice : 
"  Now,  look  here,  Tyson,  can  you  be  serious  and  sens 
ible  just  for  a  minute.  Did  you  ever  see  what  I 
sold  him — the  papers  ?  Did  you  ever  look  at  them  ? 
Do  you  know  what  they  are,  or  where  they  are  ? " 

Tyson  was  looking  out  of  the  window  at  the  flying 
view  of  boys  in  red  and  blue  flannels  playing 
cricket. 

132 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  That 's  right ;  do  n't  lie.  Always  look  into  things 
and  be  sure  you  understand  them  before  you  form  an 
opinion  on  them.  In  other  words,  do  n't  jump  to 
conclusions  and  make  an  ass  of  yourself.  That  is 
what  I  am  always  instilling  into  the  minds  of  the 
young  people  when  I  talk  to  them  at  meetings.  It  's 
what  I  say  when  I  write  articles  in  the  juvenile 
papers.  The  lesson  is  just  as  useful  to  you  as  it  is  to 
them.  Are  you  listening  ?  .  .  .  But  there 's  an 
hour  yet  before  we  reach  Ore  we,  and  we  must  kill  the 
time  somehow." 

There  came  to  Tyson's  memory  incidents  of  his 
early  days  in  the  South- West,  when  the  era  of  the 
six-shooter  was  not  yet  ended  and  a  pistol  shot  was 
an  effective  peace-maker. 

"  Now  listen  to  me,  I  say,"  Pewster  went  on ;  "you 
call  Julian  Glynne  your  friend.  Well,  he 's  mine  too, 
and  a  grateful  friend,  a  very  much  obliged  friend, 
mark  that.  When  I  sold  that  document  to  him  I 
was  throwing  money  away.  I  let  him  have  it  for  a 
song ;  I  was  dead  broke ;  1  did  n't  know  its  value  any 
more  than  you  do  now.  You  remember  he  did  n't 
have  the  papers  with  him  when  Nona  found  him  that 
night  ? " 

Tyson  pricked  his  ears,  and  with  quickened  interest 
in  the  knowledge  he  was  revealing  fixed  his  eyes  on 
Pewster. 

"  You  never  saw  them,  never  asked  for  them,  never 
looked  for  them.  Oh,  Tyson,  why  did  n't  it  occur  to 
you  to  search  for  them  ?  Or  if  you  were  too  lazy  to 
do  it  yourself,  why  did  n't  you  send  one  of  the  boys 
to  pick  them  up  on  the  trail  over  the  lava  ?  But  you 
were  never  meant  for  business,  Tyson ;  you ' ve  got  no 
head  for  it.  You  know  nothing  about  it,  and  nothing 

133 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


about  mines.  You  're  too  sentimental,  too  soft,  for 
business,  my  boy.  And  the  Senator 's  soft  stuff  too — 
no  brains ;  a  mere  creature  of  luck,  as  you  are.  I 
tell  you,  Tyson,  the  only  man  in  your  outfit  is  Nona. 
I  respect  her. 

"  Well,"  he  continued,  "  the  papers  were  found 
and  restored  to  Julian,  and  now  they  belong  to  me 
and  Mike  Dougherty.  You  remember  Mike  ?  Oh,  he 
has  n't  done  with  your  doughboy  of  a  Senator  yet." 

He  finished  his  glass  and  smacked  his  lips  as  he 
refilled  it. 

Tyson  appeared  to  be  reading. 

"  Obtaining  money  under  false  pretences,  eh  ?  You 
talk  to  me  like  that  ?  Whose  money  are  you  splurging 
with,  I  'd  like  to  know  !  Money  from  a  mine  that 
does  n't  belong  to  you  ;  that 's  it.  Instead  of  playing 
the  gentleman  in  England,  you  ought  to  be  living  in 
a  dug-out." 

Tyson  sat  in  his  corner  repressing  himself — strug- 

fling  to  fathom  the  significance  of  Pewster's  words, 
ut  distrustful  and  confused. 

Pe wster  now  yawned.  "  Perhaps  you  wond  er  why 
I  condescend — yes,  condescend — to  tell  you  all  this — 
to  speak  to  you  at  all  when  you've  treated  me  like  a 
hog.  Well,  I  tell  you.  I've  done  it  just  for  the  fun 
of  seeing  your  face ;  that  has  been  as  good  as  a 
play.  Excuse  me  now.  I  'm  going  to  have  forty 
winks." 

As  the  train  neared  Crewe  he  broke  out  again.  "  I 
understand  you  've  taken  a  fancy  to  Culvercombe. 
You  can't  have  it,  Tyson,  it 's  mine.  The  cottage  at 
Laleham,  the  house  in  Park  Lane,  and  Culvercombe, 
they  're  all  a  man  of  simple  tastes  can  ask  for,  except 
a  bit  of  shooting  and  fishing  in  Scotland." 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  You  '11  never  get  Culvercombe,  Pewster !  "  flared 
Tyson,  as  the  train  drew  into  the  busy,  smoky  sta 
tion. 

The  servant  reappeared  at  the  door  and  removed 
the  hand  baggage. 

"  Good  day,"  said  Pewster.  "  I  leave  you  here. 
I  'm  on  my  way  to  Langdale  Hall.  Lord  Langdale  's 
a  great  friend  of  mine — has  asked  me  down  for  the 
shooting." 

"Take  care  of  yourself,  Pewster,"  Tyson  called 
after  him.  "The  tar  isn't  all  off  yet."  But  as  the 
jaunty  figure  in  grey  strode  away,  with  a  light,  inso 
lent  fling  of  the  hand,  Tyson  burned  with  the  gusty 
flame  of  murder.  What  pricked  him  was  the  truth 
he  had  to  swallow  in  some  of  the  things  Pewster  had 
said,  or  what  in  his  chagrin  and  self-abasement  he 
took  for  the  truth. 

"  A  mere  creature  of  luck ! "  That  was  not  so 
wide  of  the  mark ;  a  dreamer  and  a  sentimentalist, 
a  failure  but  for  the  accidental  discovery  of  Sheba 
and  his  chance  meeting  with  the  Senator  !  Had  he 
not  often  said  to  himself  before  saying  it  to  Miss 
Leigh  on  the  downs  yesterday,  "  I  never  earned  it ; 
it  was  all  luck  ?  "  Pewster  had  "  sized  him  up  and 
taken  him  down  a  peg  " — Pewster  of  all  men  ;  and 
in  the  gathering  twilight  as  the  train  resumed  its 
journey,  Tyson  hunched  himself  in  his  corner  and 
felt  as  if  he  had  been  whipped. 

There  were  other  things  to  think  of  than  his 
wounded  vanity,  however,  and  he  found  relief  in 
turning  them  over.  Pewster  was  an  unfathomable 
liar,  of  course,  but  his  story  of  the  recovery  of 
Julian's  lost  documents  had  not  the  sound  of  in 
vention,  surprising  as  it  was.  That  the  papers  had 

135 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


been  found  and  that  they  had  some  mysterious  value 
greater  than  Pewster  or  Julian  had  anticipated  was 
not  impossible,  but  if  they  had  been  passed  from 
Julian  to  Pewster,  why  had  Julian  not  consulted 
Tyson  or  the  Senator  before  parting  with  them  ? 
It  was  no  news  to  Tyson  that  Dougherty  and  Pews 
ter  were  working  together,  for  after  his  discharge 
from  Sheba  Pewster  had  been  employed  by  Dough 
erty,  who  was  glad  to  take  advantage  of  the  former 
book-keeper's  knowledge  of  conditions  of  the  mine. 
For  many  years  Dougherty  had  conspired  in  the 
courts  and  in  politics — in  endless  litigation  and  by 
popular  agitation — to  dispossess  the  rightful  own 
ers.  Julian  might  have  given  a  clue  to  the  latest 
manoeuvre,  and  that  he  had  not  done  so  was  a  pity, 
but  Tyson  did  not  arraign  him  for  anything  more 
serious  than  thoughtlessness.  Tyson  was  the  sim 
plest  of  men,  a  magnanimous  enemy,  but  obstinate 
in  his  affections  which,  when  they  were  once  be 
stowed,  had  a  durability  beyond  reason  :  malice  and 
cunning  were  not  parts  of  his  nature.  His  vanity 
had  been  ruffled,  but  his  modesty  was  greater  than 
his  conceit. 

So  as  his  journey  progressed  through  a  sterner, 
duller  landscape  than  that  of  the  south,  a  landscape 
darkened  by  collieries  and  smoking  manufacturing 
towns,  his  feeling  towards  Pewster  relaxed  into 
mere  wonder  that  so  obvious  a  rogue  should  suc 
ceed,  and  confidence  that  he  would  yet  come  to 
grief.  Of  the  integrity  of  Julian  he  had  no  sus 
picion. 

When  he  alighted  at  the  terminus,  however,  and 
again  set  foot  in  his  native  town,  he  at  once  sent  a 
cablegram  to  the  Senator,  and  before  he  went  to  bed 

136 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


that  night  a  brief  reply  came  from  Nona  —  a  reply 
that  somehow  glistened  with  the  spray  of  the  Atlan 
tic  and  was  electric  with  the  air  of  the  West : 

" Same  old  mine^  same  old  Huff \  same  old  Nona" 


137 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XII.     The  Girl  who  had  Dis 
appeared 


WHEN  Tyson   came  down  stairs  next 
morning  and  looked  out  from  the  por 
tico  of  the  big  station  hotel  the  rain 
was  sweeping  the  public  square  with 
the  sharpness   and  flash  of    scythes, 
flooding  the  gutters,  and  splashing  on 
the  pavement  in  steely  spikes.     It  wreathed  itself  in 
wire-drawn  eddies  around  the  columns  of  the  vast 
Corinthian  hall  across  the  way,  and  poured  down  the 
pediment  in  a  cataract.     It  spurted  up  and  down  and 
blew  from  every  quarter  at  once,  taking  hats  and  um 
brellas  by  surprise. 

Heavy  as  the  downpour  was,  and  gusty  as  the 
wind,  tho  street  was  crowded  by  saunterers  of  the 
poorer  class  without  occupation  or  destination,  who, 
if  they  were  not  impervious  to  the  rain,  appeared 
indifferent  to  it  and  careless  of  any  need  of  shelter 
— the  short-skirted,  bonnetless,  bare-ankled  women 
with  baskets  and  bundles  on  their  heads  and  small 
red  shawls  around  their  bare  necks ;  the  heavy- 
footed,  stunted  men — dock  labourers  in  malodorous 
corduroys  and  small  tweed  caps,  sailors  in  greasy  blue 

138 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


serge  whitened  by  brine,  and  swarthier  men  of  the 
engine-room  and  stoke-hole  with  the  grime  of  oily 
vapours  rubbed  into  their  gaunt,  sallow  faces. 

Kagged  children  swarmed  in  shrill,  restless  flocks, 
like  wary  predatory  birds,  and  they  seemed  to  be  the 
same  children  of  long  ago  that  Tyson  remembered, 
unwashed,  unfed,  unclothed,  unshod,  as  they  had 
always  been.  He  had  forgotten  how  very  dirty  and 
tatterdemalion  they  were  :  even  the  rags  they  wore 
were  insufficient  to  decently  cover  them.  Many  of 
them  were  shoeless  and  shirtless,  and  without  head- 
covering  except  a  shock  of  hair  ;  many  of  them  had 
no  other  covering  than  a  woeful  misfit  of  a  man's 
coat  clumsily  cut  down  in  the  sleeves,  and  a  man's 
trousers  curtailed  above  the  knees,  with  the  cloth 
so  threadbare  and  tattered  that  the  naked  body  un 
derneath  was  exposed  with  the  unabashed  frankness 
of  nature. 

"  Mart — chees ! "  they  screamed.  "  Two  boxes  a 
penny.  Mart — chees  !  "  "  Shoe-laces  !  Penny  a 
bunch ! "  "  Buy  a  flower,  mister !  Buy  a  flower ! 
On'y  a  penny." 

They  had  nothing  that  the  better  dressed  people 
who  had  pennies  wanted,  and  the  better  class  of 
people  seemed  deaf  and  blind  to  them,  until  a  too 
persistent  urchin  brought  upon  himself  a  cuff,  an 
imprecation,  a  kick  or  the  prod  of  an  umbrella.  The 
better  class  of  people  smoked  their  briar  pipes  and  held 
up  their  bespattered  skirts,  but,  like  the  loafers,  did  not 
increase  their  speed  on  account  of  the  rain  :  they 
were  used  to  torrents  and  blustering  winds,  and  when 
acquaintances  met  they  stood  and  gossiped  as  leisurely 
as  on  a  fine  day,  heedless  of  the  wet  and  the  flapping 
of  their  dripping  garments.  They  were  a  rougher, 

139 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


sturdier,  heavier  people  than  those  in  the  south,  and 
spoke  with  the  broad  Lancashire  accent  which  Tyson 
himself  had  not  yet  entirely  lost. 

Occasionally  a  policeman  in  oilskins  made  a  drive 
among  the  boys  and  girls,  and  for  a  minute  they 
dispersed  like  thieving  birds  at  the  sound  of  a 
gun-shot,  to  congregate  again  as  soon  as  he  was  out 
of  sight,  and  to  renew  their  cries  and  offer  better 
bargains. 

"Mart — chees  !  Mart — chees  !  Three  boxes  a 
penny !  'Ere  you  are,  mister.  '  Ave  four  boxes  for 
a  penny ! " 

At  nearly  every  corner  and  between  the  streets 
there  was  a  gaudy  gin-palace — a  "public" — which 
with  green,  yellow  and  red  paint,  mirrors,  crystal 
chandeliers,  and  silver-plated  fittings,  glittered  in  the 
prevalent  brown  and  grey,  and  attracted  to  its  door 
and  counters  a  reeking,  red-faced,  noisy  crowd  of 
slatternly  women  and  sodden  men.  Over  the  doors, 
and  in  gilt  letters  in  the  windows,  was  the  name  of 
"Grooby"  mentioned  by  Julian— the  Sir  Peter 
Grooby,  distiller  and  brewer,  who  like  a  spirit  from 
his  own  vats  had  risen  to  a  high  place  in  English 
society. 

Tyson  sighed.  From  this  point  of  view  his  Eng 
land  and  his  countrymen  were  not  edifying.  There 
were  tragic  inequalities  which  he  had  forgotten.  The 
children  particularly  revealed  such  ignorance  and 
poverty  that  the  ardour  of  the  returning  native  cooled, 
and  his  amusement  in  their  tricks  and  in  the  gro- 
tesqueness  of  their  rags  gave  place  to  gloomy  ponder- 
ings  on  their  hopelessness,  though  possibly  their  con 
dition  preyed  on  him  with  more  acuteness  than  it  did 
on  them,  as  the  sight  of  poverty  often  does  in  a 

140 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

sympathetic  observer.  The  cruelest  part  of  it  all 
was  that  among  the  round-headed,  blunt-nosed,  small- 
eyed  majority,  plainly  the  offspring  of  heredity  and 
persistent  vice  and  penury,  there  was  an  occasional 
boy  or  girl  with  a  refinement  of  feature  and  expres 
sion  that  indicated  superior  parentage.  Where  were 
the  sponsors  for  these,  who  could  only  be  accounted 
for  by  desertion  and  illegitimacy  ? 

Tyson  had  the  disposition  and  the  intention  to  do 
something,  but  his  own  problem  was  before  him  and 
tied  his  hands  for  the  present. 

Putting  on  a  soft  hat  and  a  mackintosh,  he  refused 
a  cab,  and  with  a  full  heart  and  a  questioning  mind 
he  set  out  in  the  storm  for  the  suburb  in  which  stood 
the  institution  in  which  Bessie  had  been  placed.  It 
was  in  the  northern  part  of  the  town,  and  the  way 
was  through  a  familiar  neighbourhood  of  little  houses 
and  little  shops  of  dingy  brick  that  had  lost  all  its 
original  colour — dismal  enough  in  fair  weather,  and 
leaden  now  in  rattle  of  wind  and  rain,  the  dropping 
smoke  and  the  splash  of  mud.  Again  the  "  publics 
made  a  glittering  show  at  every  corner,  and  if  busi 
ness  was  slack  elsewhere  here  it  thrived,  the  bars 
being  thronged  to  the  doors  by  men  and  women, 
while  occasionally  children  passed  in  and  out,  carry 
ing  pitchers  of  beer  and  flasks  of  spirits  for  home 
consumption.  "  Grooby's  Entire  "  was  the  sign  on 
most  of  them — Grooby,  the  millionaire — Grooby,  the 
giver  of  picture  galleries  and  museums  ! 

The  little  houses  were  of  an  unvarying  pattern — 
two  stories  in  height,  with  three  square  yards  of 
garden  in  front,  and  that  guarded  by  sharp  iron  rail 
ings.  Ornaments  in  the  Tittle  bay  windows  gave  a 
clue  to  the  occupation  of  the  tenants,  and  from  the 

141 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


number  of  model  ships  in  glass  cases  or  on  stands, 
the  branches  of  coral,  the  floral  anchors,  and  the 
parrots  in  cages,  it  was  plain  that  not  a  few  were 
seafarers.  One  street  differed  from  another  not  by  its 
architecture,  but  by  its  condition  and  its  reflection  of 
the  relative  prosperity  of  its  denizens.  In  the  shabbi 
est  lived  artisans,  firemen,  boatswains  and  boatswains' 
mates ;  in  others  lace  curtains  hung  starchily  in  the 
bay  windows,  the  gardens  planted  with  nasturtiums 
and  other  hardy  annuals,  a  visible  mahogany  table, 
a  chair  with  a  crocheted  antimacassar,  and  the  pipe 
clayed  doorsteps,  bore  witness  to  the  elegancies  of  life 
attainable  by  marine  engineers,  stevedores,  mates  and 
even  captains.  In  one  of  these  band-boxes  of  the 
better  class,  which  was  further  distinguished  by  the 
contiguity  of  an  ugly  modern  church  of  the  transi 
tional  style,  Tyson  had  been  born,  and  he  turned  the 
corner  to  look  at  it  and  at  the  leering  gargoyle  with 
the  body  of  a  dragon  and  the  face  of  a  demon,  which 
was  furiously  ejecting  rain,  as  it  had  done  when  in 
the  long  ago  he  had  flattened  his  soft  nose  against 
the  pane  of  the  little  bed-room  window  and  gazed 
fearsomely  and  wonderingly  at  the  vomiting  mon 
strosity. 

As  Tyson  tramped  on,  the  vision  of  a  pinched,  ill- 
clad,  shivering,  serious  boy  was  at  his  elbow — an 
apparition  of  himself — and  as  he  dwelt  on  it  the 
forlorn  little  figure  became  detached  and  accom 
panied  him  as  a  companion  with  whom  he  could 
converse. 

Where  there  had  been  farms  and  hedges  and  mead 
ows  the  town  now  throve  in  further  extensions  of 
the  little  houses  and  shops ;  but  Tyson  saw  it  in  its 
former  state,  and  the  busy  highway  became  a 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


country  lane  on  a  November  day  with  an  icy  wind 
snapping  and  shrieking  in  the  leafless  boughs,  and 
driving  along  the  ruts  in  the  frozen  mud. 

"Very  cold,  isn't  it?"  said  Tyson,  turning  up  the 
collar  of  his  coat  and  beating  his  gloved  hands. 

"  Yes,  that  it  is,"  said  the  boy,  who  had  neither 
gloves  nor  overcoat.  He  carried  a  small  bundle 
under  his  arm,  and  buried  his  hands  in  his  trouser 
pockets.  His  face  was  blue  with  cold. 

"Going  far?" 

"  Only  two  miles." 

"  A  fire  will  look  good  a  day  like  this,  won't  it  ? 
On  your  way  home  ? 

"  K— n— no.    I'm  going  to  see  my  sister." 

"  Got  a,  sister  ?     That 's  nice." 

"  This  is  a  present  for  her — some  woollen  mittens 
and  some  gingerbread,"  the  boy  said,  touching  his 
parcel. 

"  She'll  like  those.  It's  very  good  of  you.  And 
where 's  the  sister  ? " 

The  boy  hesitated  :  he  did  not  like  to  say  "  work 
house  " — that  ultimate  depth  of  social  disqualification 
from  which  even  the  poorest  of  the  poor  shrink  as 
from  a  leprosy,  or  from  a  nameless  degradation 
little  above  that  of  the  gaol. 

He  hesitated,  and  then  used  another  word  for  it. 
"  In  an  institution." 

"  Oh,  an  institution ! "  said  Tyson.     "  How 's  that  ? " 

"She's  an  orphan;  I'm  an  orphan." 

"  That 's  sad.     "Who  looks  out  for  you  ? " 

"  Nobody  except  me.  I  'm  in  business.  I  'm  go 
ing  to  get  her  out  soon  and  have  her  live  with  me. 
She  doesn't  like  the — institution." 

"The  orphan  asylum?" 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  The  institution,"  the  boy  persisted. 

"  And  what  is  your  business  ? "  Tyson  continued. 

"  Ship  broking." 

"  Indeed !    That's  a  fine  business." 

"Aye,  it's  pretty  good.  Five  shillings  a  week 
now ;  six  shillings  a  week  next  year." 

They  came  to  an  inn  which  abutted  on  the  neg 
lected  graveyard  of  the  village  church,  standing  on 
a  hill  overlooking  the  sea.  "  Come  in  and  have  a 
bite,  and  get  warm,"  said  Tyson. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  the  little  fellow  replied.  "  I  -'11 
be  late  for  the  institution,  and  they  may  not  let  me 
see  her." 

"  But  you  look  hungry." 

"Not  very." 

"You  look  cold." 

"  Oh,  I'll  run  the  rest  of  the  way ;  that'll  warm 
me  up." 

Tyson  took  a  five-pound  note  out  of  his  pocket, 
and  offered  it.  The  toy  looked  amazed,  but  shook 
his  head. 

"  No,  thank  you,  much  obliged.  I  can  get  along," 
he  said  shaking  his  head.  "  Good-bye." 

And  he  left  Tyson's  side  and  trotted  down  the 
hill  at  a  quicker  pace. 

"  Well ! "  said  Tyson  to  himself,  as  he  watched  the 
retreating  figure,  "You  always  were  an  independ 
ent  little  cuss,  and  I  do  n't  believe  they'll  ever  starve 
or  freeze  that  pride  out  of  you,  my  boy ! " 

Down  a  valley  in  the  direction  the  boy  took  stood 
two  dreary  buildings  of  enormous  size  in  high-walled 
grounds — a  workhouse  and  a  gaol,  bare  and  sombre 
as  such  places  usually  are.  There  was  little  to  dis 
tinguish  one  from  the  other,  except  that  the  work- 

144 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


house  had  many  windows  and  the  gaol  only  a  few 
heavily  barred  casements. 

"They  ought  to  have  signs  on  them,"  Tyson 
mused,  and  he  thought  of  a  befitting  one  for  both, — 
"  Grooby's  Entire." 

He  entered  a  lodge  at  the  workhouse  gate.  His 
hat  was  slouchy,  his  overcoat  wet  and  bespattered 
with  mud ;  raindrops  were  dripping  down  his  eye 
glasses.  He  looked  like  a  person  of  no  importance, 
and  felt  like  one.  A  threadbare  boyish  clerk  was 
working  at  a  high  desk,  and  a  stout,  surly  woman 
in  black  alpaca  was  rocking  herself  before  an  open 
fire. 

"  Can  I  see  the  matron  ? "  Tyson  asked. 

The  woman  wheeled  in  her  chair  and  glanced  at 
him  impatiently.  "  I  'm  the  matron.  What  do  you 
want?* 

"  I  want  to  inquire  about  a  former  inmate  here." 

"  A  former  inmate !  What  do  we  know  about  for 
mer  inmates  ?  Them  that  Js  here  now  give  us  trouble 
enough,  without  our  bothering  with  them  that's 
gone. " 

The  clerk  turned  from  his  books  and  smiled  appre 
ciatively  at  the  matron  while  he  belittled  Tyson  in  a 
supercilious  stare. 

"  What  name  ? "  the  matron  continued. 

"  Tyson." 

"  Well ,  there 's  a  dozen  Tysons  here  now.  Perhaps 
you  Jd  like  to  take  your  choice.  You  're  welcome  to 
any  of  them." 

"  Elizabeth  Tyson  is  the  child  I  am  talking  of,"  said 
Tyson. 

"  Ah,  that  one !  She 's  given  us  more  trouble  than 
all  the  rest;  the  one  that  those  London  solicitors  have 
J  145 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


been  making  such  a  fuss  about,  as  if  we  had  n't  enough 
to  do  without  answering  long  letters  from  lawyers ! 
I  suppose  you  came  from  them  ?  Well,  I  've  told  them 
all  we  know.  There  seems  to  be  some  mystery  about 
that  child,  there 's  so  much  to-do  about  her.  A  miss 
ing  heiress,  maybe  ! "  she  said  sarcastically. 

"  Maybe,"  replied  Tyson  seriously.  "  Anyhow,  if 
you  or  anybody  else  can  put  me  on  her  track  I  '11 
make  it  worth  your  while." 

He  threw  open  his  overcoat,  and  as  he  consulted 
his  watch — a  watch  that  Nona  had  given  him,  or 
namented  with  a  jewelled  monogram — that,  and  the 
raiment  underneath,  simple  as  it  was,  conveyed  to 
the  shrewd  eyes  of  the  matron  possibilities  which 
softened  her  asperity. 

"  "Won't  you  sit  down,  sir  ? "  she  said,  going  to  a 
shelf  and  reaching  among  several  leather-bound  fo 
lios  with  some  assiduity.  "  You  are  n't  from  the  so 
licitors  ? " 

"  I  am  their  client.  They  have  been  inquiring  in 
my  behalf." 

"  A  relative,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  a  relative." 

"  I  thought  so.  It 's  a  good  many  years  ago,  but 
I  remember  that  child  as  if  it  had  been  only  yester- 
day.  A  pretty  little  thing,  that  she  was.  Sne  did 
look  like  you,  sir — in  a  way." 

Tyson  listened  impatiently. 

"  Now  here  it  is,  in  plain  black  and  white.  You 
can  see  for  yourself,"  the  matron  proceeded,  open 
ing  before  him  one  of  the  big  books  and  reacting 
various  entries  aloud  to  him,  without  revealing  any 
thing  that  he  had  not  already  learned  through  the 
solicitors — a  few  names  and  dates,  and  the  bare  fact 

146 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


that  Elizabeth  Tyson  had  been  discharged  from  the 
workhouse  to  enter  the  service  of  a  Mrs.  Twiggs  as 
maid-of  -all-work. 

"  What  does  a  maid-of  -all-work  have  to  do  ?  Is  it 
a  hard  job  for  a  little  girl  ?  "  Tyson  asked  sympathe 
tically. 

The  question  amused  the  matron  by  its  ingenuous 
ness.  "  There  's  precious  little  that  she  does  n't  do  in 
most  families.  Of  course  it  is  n't  likely  to  be  what 
you  'd  call  easy." 

"  Long  hours  ?  " 

"  All  hours  as  well  as  all  work  in  most  cases  —  not 
like  a  trained  servant  in  such  a  family  as  yours  no 
doubt  is,  sir." 

"  Are  they  ill-treated  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  do  n't  know  as  you  could  say  as  they  are  ill- 
treated,  but  you  know  what  they  are  called,  sir 
slaveys.     Sometimes   they're  put  on  a  bit,  I  m 


must 


sa." 


Tyson  suppressed  a  groan,  as  he  pressed  the  ques 
tion,  "  And  what  sort  of  a  mistress  was  Mrs.  Twiggs 
likely  to  be?" 

"  Well,  she  took  in  boarders.  That  does  n't  make 
the  place  any  easier  ;  now,  does  it  ?  She  was  a  widow. 
She  seemed  to  take  quite  a  fancy  to  Elizabeth,  the 
girl  was  so  fresh-looking  and  good-natured." 

"  Poor  child  !  Poor  little  Bessie  !  "  cried  Tyson,  in  a 
trembling  voice.  "  As  I  understand,"  he  continued, 
"  Mrs.  Twiggs  disappeared  several  years  ago,  and  the 
child  disappeared  at  the  same  time." 

"  That  's  it,  sir  —  skipt  by  the  light  of  the  moon  is 
what  they  say,  if  you  '11  excuse  me  for  using  such  a 
vulgar  expression  —  so  many  of  them  does!  There 
was  that  young  gentleman  that  came  from  London  — 

147 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


the  solicitors'  young  man,  and  a  private  detective 
too —  they  made  inquiries  everywhere,  and  nothing 
came  of  it." 

Tyson  shook  his  head  despairingly.  "  You  take 
no  further  interest  in  a  child  when  she  once  leaves 
you?" 

"  Oh,  how  could  we,  sir  ?  There 's  always  hundreds 
of  others  to  take  their  places  when  they  go ;  and 
there  's  enough  to  do,  that  there  is,  in  looking  after 
them  while  they  're  here." 

Tyson  turned  from  the  book  and  confronted  the 
shabby  youth,  who  was  listening  with  round  eyes 
and  an  open  mouth. 

"  Excuse  me,  sir — Mrs.  Skirving — was  you  speaking 
of  Mrs.  Adelbert  Twiggs  as  used  to  live  at  No.  13, 
Smith  wick  Terrace  ? " 

"  Aye,  that 's  her.  "What  do  you  know  about  her  ? 
— Tompkins  has  only  been  here  a  week  or  two,"  the 
matron  said,  by  way  of  explanation,  referring  to  the 
clerk. 

"  I  saw  her  in  London  Koad — let  me  see — it  was 
only  last  Friday." 

"  You  saw  her?  Do  you  think  you  can  find  her? 
I  '11  give  you — !  Find  her,  and  it  will  be  the  best 
day's  work  you  've  ever  done  in  your  life ! "  Tyson 
clamoured  impetuously,  dragging  Tompkins  from  his 
high  stool  and  hustling  him  towards  the  door.  "  Find 
her,  and  I  '11  make  it  worth  your  while.  Are  n't  you 
going  ?  Wake  up,  man ! " 

He  could  not  control  himself,  and  Tompkins  put 
up  his  hands  to  protect  himself,  and  slouched  back  to 
his  desk.  The  thought  of  what  he  might  exact  reeled 
in  his  feeble  brain — the  fortune  he  had  dreamed  of 
and  strained  for,  spending  in  the  quest  of  it  all  his 

148 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


spare  coin — hoping  for  it  not  by  labour  but  by  such 
devices  as  "  missing  word "  contests,  racing  sweep 
stakes,  and  picture  puzzles  in  penny  papers  which 
guaranteed  nve  shillings  a  day  for  life  to  the  success 
ful  guesser.  A  pallor  spread  over  his  face  and  his 
eyes  resembled  those  of  a  white  rat ;  a  little  froth 
oozed  at  each  corner  of  his  trembling  lips ;  his  tongue 
was  dry,  and  speech  difficult. 

"  He  can't  leave  now ;  there  'd  be  trouble  if  he  did ; 
but  after  six  o'clock  perhaps — Well,  now,  isn't  it 
wonderful  ? "  said  the  matron. 

"Well,  at  six  o'clock,  or  after — you  find  Mrs. 
Twiggs,  or  let  me  know  where  I  can  find  her  to-night, 
to-morrow,  next  week,  any  time,  and  it  will  be  the 
best  day's  work  you  have  ever  done.  Hold  on, 
though!  I  might  find  her  myself.  What  is  she 
like?" 

First  dismay,  then  cunning  and  cupidity,  appeared 
in  Tompkins'  waxy  visage.  He  possessed  a  secret 
as  valuable  as  the  "  correct  solution  "  required  by  his 
penny  papers. 

"What's  she  like?"  he  repeated,  thickly  and 
slowly.  "  Why,  like  anybody  !  " 

"  Young  or  old  ?  How  was  she  dressed  ? "  urged 
Tyson. 

"  Not  that  old,  and  not  that  young  neither." 

"  How  was  she  dressed  ? " 

"  I  do  n't  remember.  Come  to  think,  I  'm  not  sure 
that  it  was  London  Road  that  I  saw  her.  Ah !  — 
Look  here,  if  you  find  her  do  /  get  the  money  ? " 

"  Yes !  Come  and  see  me  at  my  hotel — at  the 
Station  Hotel — at  ten  o'clock,  and  make  no  mistake 
about  it." 

The  matron  was  calculating  that  a  profitable  en- 

149 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


terprise  was  drifting  away  from  her.  "  Perhaps  I 
might  hear  of  her,  sir.  I  'm  sure  if  I  could — might 
I  ask  if  you  would —  " 

"Certainly — you  shall  have  as  much  or  more," 
acquiesced  Tyson.  "And  see  here,  this  anyhow," 
handing  Tompkins  a  sovereign  and  Mrs.  Skirving  a 
bank  note  from  the  plethoric  and  well-used  wallet 
out  of  which  Mary's  rose  had  fallen  the  other  day. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  sir  !  Would  you  like  to  see  the 
children  ?  We  do  the  best  we  can  to  make  them 
happy,  poor  dears  !  " 

Tyson  looked  through  one  of  the  wards  in  which, 
according  to  the  matron,  they  were  playing.  They 
all  stood  still  when  she  entered.  All  of  them  were 
in  blue  pinafores;  all  pale-faced,  close-cropped  and 
rickety ;  all  shy,  apathetic  and  crushed.  He  tried  to 
question  some  of  them,  but  they  hung  their  heads 
and  fingered  the  edges  of  their  pinafores.  They  had 
no  such  high  spirits  and  ebullient  daring  as  the  Arabs 
he  had  seen  in  the  square,  who,  though  their  rags 
blew  in  the  wind,  had  the  spice  and  sport  of  freedom 
in  their  forays,  and  unflagging  interest  in  their  out 
lawry.  The  walls  were  bare,  and  the  air  smelt  of 
porridge,  plaster  and  chloride  of  lime. 

The  matron  took  his  card,  and  bowed  him  out 
through  the  lod^e.  When  he  had  gone  she  sat  down, 
quite  overcome  by  her  emotions. 

"  WeU,  I  never !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  And  all  this 
to-do  about  that  little  brat,  Bessie  !  And  to  think 
she  's  an  heiress  !  As  I  said  to  him,  I  can  remember 
her  as  well  as  if  she  were  here  now,  and  as  saucy 
and  troublesome  a  minx  as  ever  was  !  " 

She  poured  out  a  cup  of  tea  to  soothe  herself,  and 
cogitated.  "  There 's  one  thing,  Tompkins  ;  you  '11 

150 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

never  be  able  to  get  out  to-night,  and  you  'd  no  right 
to  promise  him  that  you  would." 

"  What 's  that !  Not  get  out  to-night  ?  Oh,  in 
deed  ! "  sneered  Tompkins,  his  hair  bristling  and 
his  mouth  opening.  "  And  why  not  ? " 

"  Now,  no  impudence.  You  know  your  work 's  all 
behind,  and  there 's  a  meeting  of  the  guardians  next 
week.  You  've  got  to  do  it.  I  won't  have  it  put 
off  any  longer  ;  there  now !  I  'm  going  into  town 
myself,  and  I  can  inquire  for  Mrs.  Twiggs." 

"  You  '11  do  no  such  thing !  I  '11  chuck  this  blessed 
job.  I  'm  sick  and  tired  of  it  anyway.  I  'm  going, 
and  going  early." 

"  Now,  what 's  the  use  of  going  on  like  that  ? "  The 
matron  was  alarmed.  "  We  can  be  friendly,  can't 
we  ?  Your  interest  is  my  interest,  and  it  may  be  a 
good  thing  for  both  of  us  if  you  can  be  reasonable. 
Have  some  tea  ? " 

And  being  pacified  by  the  honour  of  the  invitation, 
Mr.  Tompkins  took  the  tea  and  stirred  it  with  ner 
vous  fingers. 


151 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XIII.     In  which  Tyson  Sups 
with  some  Arabs 


rain  ceased,  but  was  followed  by  a  yel 
low  fog,  through  which  early  in  the  after 
noon  the  lamps  struggled  in  bunches  of 
orange  mist.  Again  and  again  Tyson 
-*-  walked  up  and  down  London  Koad,  with 
its  cheap  shops  in  which  bargains  were 
cut  down  by  farthings,  and  explored  one  after  an 
other  of  the  sooty,  close,  intersecting  streets  of  dark 
houses,  older  and  formerly  more  pretentious  than 
those  of  the  morning,  but  now  slipping  through  the 
social  and  economic  middle  distance  between  respect 
able  citizenship  and  that  vague  borderland  in  which 
poverty,  crime,  and  vice  intermingle  with  mutual 
understanding  and  tolerance.  He  watched  the  peo 
ple  he  passed,  and  as  often  as  he  saw  an  oldish  wo 
man  in  black  was  tempted  to  accost  her  and  ask  her 
name. 

Youthful  memories  enabled  him  to  shape  the  pro 
bable  appearance  of  Mrs.  Twiggs.  She  would  re 
present  a  feeble  and  unsuccessful  but  determined  as 
piration  to  preserve  a  show  of  gentility,  and  there- 

152 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


fore  would  wear  shabby  black — a  black  bonnet,  a 
black  gown,  both  spotty  and  frowsy,  and  black 
gloves,  often  repaired  but  still  gaping  at  the  finger 
tips.  Her  face  would  be  fishy  and  red,  with  watery 
eyes  and  a  watery  mouth,  and  the  purple  flush  of 
gin  upon  it.  An  unappeasable  thirst  for  more  gin 
would  parch  and  shake  her  and  dry  up  all  her 
thoughts ;  a  frayed  and  bespattered  petticoat  would 
hang  below  her  skirt  and  sweep  the  mud  above  the 
ankles  of  her  shapeless,  creaking  boots  and  her  sag 
ging,  unspeakable  stockings. 

There  were  many  of  that  kind  in  London  Eoad, 
and  when  he  saw  one  of  them  pushed  through  the 
swinging  doors  under  the  legend  of  "  Grooby's  En 
tire,"  he  caught  her  before  she  fell,  and  steadied  her 
against  a  wall. 

At  first  she  resisted  him,  and  slapped  at  him 
spitefully  as  the  instrument  of  her  ejection,  and  then 
as  she  raised  her  rheumy  eyes  and  looked  at  him  with 
an  effort  of  intelligence,  she  stuttered, 

"  You  're  a  gemman.  Filthy  beasts  in  there.  No 
respect  for  a  lady.  I  '11  go  in  again.  I  '11  teach  'em ! 
I  '11  have  the  law  on  'em,  yes,  I  will.  Where  Js  a 
p'liceman  ?  Get  a  p'liceman ! " 

She  swirled  her  petticoats  defiantly.  "  Come  'long ; 
come  'long  now,  dearie !  You  're  a  gemman.  Come 
'long ;  let 's  have  another  two-penn'orth." 

"No,  no !  We  've  had  enough — Mrs.  Twiggs,"  said 
Tyson  experimentally. 

"  Just  two  penn'orth ;  just  two,  dearie ! "  she 
pleaded. 

"  Not  another  drop ;  not  another  drop,  Mrs. 
Twiggs.  Let  us  go  home  ;  eh,  Mrs.  Twiggs  ? "  said 
Tysou»  reiterating  and  emphasizing  the  name. 

153 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

The  bleary  eyes  questioned  him,  and  the  slatternly 
figure  attempted  to  straighten  itself. 

"  Mis'  Twiggs,  indeed  !  Who  Mis'  Tvviggs  ?  I  'm 
no'  Mis'  Twiggs.  I  'm  lady.  An'  don'  you  call  me 
names ;  don'  you  poke  fun  at  me  !  You  no  gemman 
.  .  .  On'y  two  penn'orth  !  ]STo  ?  Bah  !  Y  ou  no 
gemman ! "  and  she  broke  from  him  and  pitched 
around  a  corner. 

"  Oh  Bessie,  Bessie !  Where  are  you  ?"  cried  Tyson 
bitterly  to  himself.  "  Why  did  n't  I  come  sooner  ? " 

The  home-going  hour  arrived,  and  the  crowd  was 
reanimated  and  enlivened  and  reinforced  by  the 
stream  of  clerks,  warehousemen  and  mechanics  flow 
ing  with  thoughts  of  rest  and  comfort  towards  pleas 
ant  little  parlours,  kitchen  fires  and  refreshing  slum 
ber.  Of  all  the  workaday  hours  this  is  the  cheeriest 
in  town  and  city,  for  care  is  dispelled  awhile,  and 
the  promise  of  rest  or  recreation  gives  elasticity  to 
the  step  and  buoyancy  to  the  mind.  The  toilers 
puffed  their  briar  and  clay  pipes,  and  dropped  into 
the  tobacconists  for  fresh  supplies  of  "  bird's-eye" 
or  "  shag." 

They  strode  along  singly  and  in  twos  and  threes, 
chattering  as  they  passed,  or  when  they  were  girls 
or  women  they  loitered  now  and  then  to  contem 
plate  some  marvel  of  millinery  in  straw,  tulle  and 
roses,  or  plush,  ribbons,  feathers  and  most  deceptive 
brilliants  at  from  "  five  and  six  to  eight  and  eleven 
pence  three  farthings  " — always  just  a  farthing  less 
than  the  additional  shilling  which  had  the  illusion  of 
non-existence  in  the  paring  of  the  price  and  the 
arrangement  of  the  figures.  Not  only  did  they 
stream  along  the  pavement,  but  they  filled  the  many- 
coloured  and  whirring  ft  trams  "  inside  and  outside 

154 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


when  they  were  going  greater  distances,  and  while 
he  watched  them  pressing  homeward  a-foot  and  a- 
wheel  Tyson  felt  like  an  outcast,  and  a  gnawing 
sense  of  loneliness  plucked  at  his  heart  and  pulled  afl 
its  strings. 

"  Oh  Bessie,  Bessie !  "  he  cried  again.  "  If  I  could 
only  think  that  you  were  among  them  !  " 

Very  soon  all  of  them  were  gone,  and  the  street 
was  given  to  the  prowlers  about  the  public-houses 
and  the  urchins  selling  papers,  matches  and  shoe 
laces,  who  had  neither  meal-times  nor  homes  to  in 
vite  them. 

Two  boys  and  a  girl,  bare-footed,  bare-headed  and 
half  naked,  stood  at  the  gates  of  paradise,  and  blinked 
in  the  outer  darkness  at  the  radiance  within  :  it  was 
the  window  of  a  little  cook-shop,  wherein  pork  was 
a  staple,  in  the  form  of  ham,  pies,  head-cheese  and 
sausage  rolls.  An  attendant  sat  by  the  counter — a 

firl  in  a  light  blue  bolero  jacket,  with  tinkling  gilt 
uttons,  and   a  sailor  hat,  covered  with  black  oil 
cloth,  cocked  above  two   dark,   smoothly  brushed 
discs  of  raven  hair,  which  made  semi-circles  on  her 
cheeks  and  concealed  her  ears. 

"  Children,  are  you  hungry  ? "  said  Tyson,  ap 
proaching  the  group.  "  Come  in  with  me." 

They  eyed  him  between  suspicion  and  incredulity, 
but  he  gently  pushed  them  through  the  door  and 
seated  them  at  a  table  covered  with  well-worn  oil 
cloth. 

"  Now  then,  what  is  it  to  be — a  little  of  every 
thing  or  all  of  something  ?  Speak  out ;  but  not  all  at 
once." 

The  attendant  put  down  her  novel,  and  smiled. 
She  was  not  unused  to  freaks  of  this  kind,  for  in 

155 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


London  Road  you  may  often  see  returned  colonists 
and  sailors  in  fits  of  maudlin  benevolence,  making 
free  with  their  money — even  scattering  it  to  the 
rabble  by  the  handful — and  splendidly  entertaining 
all  comers. 

She  thought  Tyson  could  not  be  sober,  and  was 
ready  to  humour  his  extravagance. 

Plate  after  plate  of  the  blushing  ham,  pie  after 
pie,  and  slab  after  slab  of  the  mysterious  head-cheese, 
were  brought  with  incredible  insufficiency  to  those 
voracious  appetites,  and  though  Tyson  attempted 
conversation  ne  could  get  no  other  response  to 
what  he  said  than  an  inarticulate  gasp  and  the  wid 
est  grin  possible  in  conjunction  with  distended 
cheeks  and  full  mouths.  Reaching  for  another  pie, 
the  girl  delayed  it  between  the  plate  and  her  open 
mouth  to  roll  adoration  at  him  from  her  eyes,  and 
when  the  boys  could  find  a  chance  they  winked  at 
him  and  smiled  with  a  significance  beyond  that  of 
any  sign  in  the  whole  arcana  of  free-masonry. 

People  were  peering  in  at  the  door,  and  among 
them  appeared  from  time  to  time  the  head  of  a  dubi 
ous  policeman.  Then  Tyson  became  aware  that  a 
young  clergvman,  who  had  entered  unobserved,  was 
standing  at  his  elbow,  and  smiling  at  the  feast.  His 
black  clothes  were  very  shabby,  but  his  face  was  as 
rosy  and  as  wholesome  as  a  boy's,  and  so  full  of 
vivacity  and  good-humour  that  it  was  impossible  to 
take  offence  at  the  intrusion.  He  looked  hardly 
more  than  a  boy  in  years,  but  was  close  to  Tyson's 
own  age. 

"I  say,  this  is  a  treat!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  de 
clare  it  makes  my  mouth  water !  May  I  have  a  slice 
of  that  ham?" 

156 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Sit  down ;  sit  down !  "  said  Tyson,  making  room 
for  him.  "  By  all  means." 

The  clergyman  was  no  stranger  to  the  children, 
and  he  called  them  by  their  names, — Nolan,  Cropsey 
and  Quirk,  Nolan  being  the  girl.  They  looked  at 
him  sidewise,  with  uncertainty  as  to  his  approval. 

"  It 's  contrary  to  rules,"  he  said,  "  but  after  all 
Christ  did  not  refer  the  needy  to  any  bureau,  or  hold 
His  hand  until  He  made  inquiries."* 

"I  know  what  you  mean,"  rejoined  Tyson.  "I 
know  that  this  sort  of  thing  has  no  permanent  effect, 
and  may  even  do  mischief  in  prolonging  dependence 
on  chance — but  they  looked  so  very  hungry ! " 

"And  you  couldn't  wait  to  investigate — Nolan, 
pass  the  mustard,  please — but  had  to  feed  them  there 
and  then.  Well,  you  haven't  damaged  them  to  any 
extent ;  I  really  believe  you  have  n't.  A  full  belly 
casts  out  iniquity.  You  are  surely  going  to  be  good 
to-morrow,  are  n't  you,  children  ? " 

The  three  heads  bobbed  and  flashed  a  covenant  at 
Tyson. 

"  That 's  a  promise,  and  if  you  break  it — " 

Quirk  plunged  into  a  vicarious  responsibility  for 
the  pact  by  turning  threateningly  on  the  other  two 
and  vehemently  declaring, 

"  If  yer  break  it,  kids,  I  '11  smash  yer  in  the  jaw ! " 

Tyson  bought  the  remainder  of  their  stocks  of 
shoe-laces  and  matches,  and  when  they  were  gone  he 
again  sat  down  with  the  clergyman,  drawn  to  him 
by  the  simplicity  and  cheerfulness  of  his  manner. 

"  You  seem  to  know  them  all,"  said  Tyson. 

"  Nearly  all.  I  've  been  here  five  years — ever  since 
I  left  Oxford.  It 's  an  endless  job,  and  the  results 
are  never  quite  satisfying." 

157 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Now,  those — have  they  got  homes  to  go  to  ? " 

"  Nolan,  Quirk  and  Cropsey  ?  They  have  roofs  to 
shelter  them,  if  they  choose  to  go,  but  the  conditions 
are  so  abominable  that  one  cannot  blame  them  when 
they  prefer  the  better  air  and  greater  quiet  of  a 
barrel  or  a  doorway,  as  they  usually  do  unless  it  is 
very  cold  or  very  wet." 

"  But  are  there  no  refuges  where  they  can  be 
properly  looked  after  ? " 

"  There  are  refuges — I  shall  be  glad  to  show  you 
one — but  except  in  extreme  cases  such  children  can 
not  be  taken  away  from  their  parents,  nor  on  the 
whole  is  it  advisable  to  take  them  away  while  there 
is  any  acknowledgment  of  parental  responsibility. 
The  root  of  the  whole  matter  in  dealing  with  poverty, 
as  I  see  it — few  disagree  with  me — is  in  insistence 
on  the  preservation  of  the  sense  of  responsibility  and 
the  spirit  of  independence.  It  is  very  difficult  to  re 
lieve  without  undermining  both  of  these  essential 
qualities  and  producing  pauperism.  For  weeks  to 
come  Nolan,  Quirk  and  Cropsey  will  give  more  at 
tention  to  the  discovery  of  generosity  like  yours  than 
to  the  sale  of  their  papers  and  shoe-laces.  That  is  the 
discouraging  part  of  it.  Not  that  I  reproach  you," 
he  added,  with  a  winning  smile.  "  Far  from  it ! 
When  I  came  out  to-night  I  was  all  out  of  sorts,  but 
now  having  met  you  I  am  quite  myself  again." 

"  I  guess  you  are  right ;  Independence  is  a  marti 
net,  but  her  discipline  is  a  good  thing,"  Tyson  ac 
quiesced,  and  then,  "  You  do  n't  happen  to  know  a 
child,  or  rather,  a  young  woman  now — named  Bessie 
Tyson?" 

"No." 

"  Nor  a  Mrs.  Twiggs  ? " 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  No,  but  I  might  hear  of  them.     Shall  I  inquire  ? " 

As  they  left  the  little  cook-shop  they  were  sur 
rounded  by  a  fresh  arrival  of  ragamuffins,  to  whom 
Nolan,  Quirk  and  Cropsey  had  communicated  the 
news  of  their  good  fortune. 

"  There  you  are ! "  cried  the  clergyman.  "  It  is 
like  baling  a  sinking  boat  when  the  water  is  gaining 
on  you  all  the  time,  or  like  weeds  that  grow  much 
faster  than  you  can  pluck  them.  But  for  faith  in 
God ! —  Let  us  go.  I  hate  to  say  it,  but  it  is  not 
wise  for  you  to  encourage  them  any  more  to-night." 

He  and  Tyson  escaped  into  one  of  the  side  streets, 
and  soon  reached  a  huge  barracks  gloomily  towering 
to  five  stories,  with  its  undraped  windows  all  dark 
ened. 

"  Come  in  for  a  moment,"  the  clergyman  urged, 
and  Tyson  followed  him  through  the  hall  and  up  a 
flight  of  sanded  stairs.  In  the  corridors  were  small 
lockers,  and  in  them,  or  outside  them,  were  the 
clothing,  wares  and  implements  of  shoe-blacks,  news 
boys  and  vendors  of  matches,  shoe-laces  and  hat- 
guards.  The  gas  was  low,  but  by  it  Tyson  could 
make  out  an  inscription  over  a  doorway  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs :  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto 
the  least  of  these,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me." 

They  peered  in,  and  in  the  dimness  the  floor  seemed 
to  be  gently  up-heaving  and  breathing  like  a  calm 
sea,  with  living  things  rising  and  falling  on  its  sur 
face.  Another  story  and  another  were  the  same, 
and  produced  that  compassion  which  the  mystery, 
helplessness  and  unconsciousness  of  sleepers  awakens 
in  those  who  watch. 

"  Look !  "  whispered  Tyson's  guide.  "  Altogether 
we  have  more  than  a  thousand  of  them.  There 's 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


not  a  nook  or  corner  from  cellar  to  roof  unoccupied, 
excepting  the  dining-room.  The  sanitary  authorities 
have  absolutely  forbidden  us  to  put  up  even  one  more 
cot." 

The  windows  were  all  open,  and  a  breeze  blowing 
through  them  purified  the  air.  The  walls  were  bare, 
but  freshened  with  whitewash ;  the  uncarpeted  floors 
were  scrubbed  to  a  polish. 

Then  Tyson  was  led  into  a  cubicle  where  a  read 
ing-lamp  was  burning  and  a  coal  fire  spluttered  in  a 
small  grate.  A  hanging  book-shelf  held  Thomas 
A'Kempis,  the  Meditations  of  Marcus  Aurelius,  a 
Greek  Testament,  and  a  few  classics.  A  Bible  and 
a  prayer-book  were  closer  at  hand,  and  over  the 
mantle  hung  an  ivory  and  ebony  crucifix.  A  narrow 
iron  bedstead  such  as  servants  use  was  crowded 
against  the  wall. 

"  Do  sit  down  and  let  us  have  a  smoke,"  said  the 
host  removing  his  coat  and  changing  it  for  a  loose 
cassock.  "  I  want  to  tell  you  of  a  dream  of  mine. 
Buildings  like  this  cost  too  much  even  in  the  country ; 
in  the  town  they  are  ruinous.  Land  is  dear — bricks 
and  mortar  put  together  in  the  simplest  forms  cost 
enormously.  Now,  what  is  cheap  ?  W  hat  will  make 
as  good  a  shelter  at  the  least  cost  ?  Why,  old  ships ! 
Old  ships  that  are  no  longer  fit  for  voyages  but  are 
perfectly  safe  in  harbours,  can  be  bought  for  a  song ; 
they  are  worth  only  what  they  will  bring  as  junk. 
Why,  every  month  in  the  year  you  can  buy  even  an 
outworn  ocean  steamer  for  a  few  thousand  pounds — 
think  of  it!" 

His  face  glowed  through  the  smoke  with  boyish 
enthusiasm.  "  What  I  propose  is  to  buy  up  old  ships, 
and  anchor  them  in  the  shallows  of  the  river,  and 

160 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


make  them  refuges  for  such  waifs  as  we  have  met  to 
night.  Do  you  see  ?  Is  n't  that  a  good  idea  ?  Moor 
ings  cost  nothing,  and  a  little  paint  and  some  boards 
and  hammocks  would  comprise  all  the  alterations 
necessary.  Think  how  easy  control  and  discipline 
would  be ;  think  of  the  fresh  air  and  the  fresh  tides 
— all  the  ozone  and  all  the  space — and  the  wholesome 
surroundings,  the  contrast  with  the  slums  !  " 

He  put  his  hands  on  his  knees  and  eagerly  watched 
Tyson's  face.  "  If  it  were  only  as  lodgings  for  the 
night,  and  we  sent  them  ashore  for  the  day,  how 
much  better  it  would  be  in  every  way  than  what  we 
are  doing  now — how  much  cheaper ;  and  then  con 
sider  the  sanitary  advantages !  I  do  not  propose  to 
make  sailors  of  them  all,  though  seamanship  and  nav 
igation  would  be  included  in  the  instruction.  With 
two  clear  decks  and  the  hammocks  stowed,  there 
would  be  room  for  everything — we  could  teach  trades 
— and  no  rentals,  no  taxes,  no  mortgages !  " 

"That's  a  good  plan,"  assented  Tyson.  "Have 
you  figured  the  cost  of  an  experiment  f  " 

"  To  be  sure  !  Here  it  all  is.  It  would  be  an  ex 
periment,  but  I  believe  I  've  got  it  down  almost  to  a 
penny." 

An  elaborate  estimate  was  quickly  drawn  from  a 
portfolio  and  placed  in  Tyson's  hands.  An  old  barque 
that  would  easily  accommodate  one  hundred  boys 
could  be  bought  for  less  than  eight  hundred  pounds — • 
re-fitting  and  alterations  would  cost  as  much  more ;  a 
small  endowment  would  suffice  for  maintenance,  as 
nearly  all  the  boys  would  be  required  to  pay  something 
for  their  food  and  lodging  out  of  their  earnings. 

ft  How  does  it  strike  you  ?    I  hope  it  impresses 
you  favourably  ? "  the  young  cleric  murmured, 
K  161 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  It  5s  a  good  idea,"  replied  Tyson.  "  Let  me  think 
it  over.  Possibly  I  can  help  you." 

"  How  good  of  you  !  I  had  not  thought  of  that — 
I  only  thought  that  it  might  interest  you  by  its  nov 
elty.  Are  you  staying  in  town  long  ?  If  you  are 
we  are  sure  to  meet.  Bo  come  and  see  me  again." 

He  led  Tyson  downstairs  to  the  entrance,  where, 
with  a  vigourous  hand-shake  before  parting,  he  said, 
"  I  shall  hope  to  see  you  again." 

Tyson  then  returned  to  his  hotel.  He  was  im 
patient  to  inquire  for  Tompkins. 

He  had  not  to  wait  long,  but  when  that  young  man 
appeared  it  was  not  with  Mrs.  Twiggs,  but  with  an 
other  youth  of  his  own  age  and  class. 


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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XIV.   An  Amateur  Detective. 


r — •— «  YSON  was  seated  in  the  lounge,  and  rose 
to  meet  them. 

"  No  news  ?  "  he  asked  at  once. 
"  Just  a  word   to  begin  with,  if  you 
™         please,  sir,  just  a  word.    Business  is  busi 
ness,  and  I  thought — yes — I  thought  as 
we  'd  better  have  a  witness." 

"  A  witness  ?    What  for  ?     What  do  you  mean  ? " 
"  Well,  this  gentleman,  my  friend,  Mr.  Frisbie — 
an  understanding,  sir." 

Mr.  Frisbie  shuffled  his  feet  and  twirled  his  cap. 
Tompkins  hesitated  between  embarrassment  and  cun 
ning. 

;<  You  see,  sir,  not  that  everything  between  us 
is  n't  aboveboard — but  what  you  said  at  the  work 
house  this  afternoon — as  a  matter  of  business,  would 
you — Mr.  Frisbie 's  a  business  man  himself,  you  see 
— would  you  mind  just  saying  over  again  in  the  pres 
ence  of  Mr.  Frisbie  what  you  said  this  afternoon  ? " 
His  blotchy  forehead  twitched  and  moistened,  and 
his  little  red  eyes  slanted  and  shifted  inconstantly. 

Tyson  himself  was  now  suspicious  and  irritated. 
"  I  said  that  if  you  found  Mrs.  Twiggs  I  would  make 

163 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


it  well  worth  your  while,  did  n't  I  ?  Those  were  my 
words,  and  I  mean  them.  Have  you  found  her  ? — 
quick ! " 

Tompkins  started  and  coughed.  "If  I  produce 
her,"  he  said,  borrowing  the  word  from  the  detective 
stories  he  had  read,  "  what  will  it  be  worth  ? " 

"Ah!  That's  it,  is  it?  Now,  suppose  I  teU  the 
pair  of  you  to  go  about  your  business — turn  you  out  ? 
That 's  what  you  deserve." 

Both  Frisbie  and  Tompkins  were  not  sure  that  a 
hand  was  not  already  on  their  collars. 

"  You  see,  I  have  been  done  so  often  in  them  miss 
ing  word  competitions — and  in  other  things,  too," 
Tompkins  pleaded. 

"  W  ell,  you  go  and  fetch  her  here  at  once,  and  I  '11 
give  you  ten  pounds.  I  'd  have  done  better  than  that 
by  you  if  you  'd  been  decent — if  you  'd  trusted  me. 
Step  lively  !  I  '11  wait  here.  I  know  you  've  got 
her." 

Mrs.  Twiggs  was  seated,  as  Tyson  observed,  in  a 
contiguous  public  house,  and  when  Tompkins  led  her 
into  the  hall  of  the  hotel  Tyson  gave  him  the  prom 
ised  reward  and  sharply  dismissed  him. 

"  If  I  should  be  able  to  find  the  other  one,  sir," 
whispered  Tompkins,  at  the  last  moment,  endeavour 
ing  to  effect  another  bargain,— "  what  would  that  be 
worth?" 

"  I  do  n't  believe  in  you,"  Tyson  replied  gruffly, 
"  but  if  you  do  that  you  shall  have  twenty,  fifty- 
yes,  a  hundred  pounds." 

He  had  made  no  great  mistake  in  prefiguring  Mrs. 
Twiggs'  appearance.  She  was  very  much  like  the 
old  woman  he  had  met  in  London  Road,  though 
tidier,  and  sober. 

164 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Sit  down,  ma  'am.  I  want  to  ask  you  about  Bessie 
Tyson,  and  intend  to  make  it  worth  your  while  if 
you  can  give  me  any  information  that  will  enable  me 
to  find  her." 

"  Oh,  I  was  always  so  fond  of  that  girl,  sir !  She 
was  real  genteel,  quite  superior  like.  I  always 
thought  she  belonged  by  rights  to  nice  people,  she 
was  that  superior — quite  the  lady,  she  was !  I  'm 
sure  I  couldn't  have  done  better  by  her  if  she'd 
been  my  own  daughter.  I'd  often  say,  *  Now  Bessie, 
dear,  you  must  be  tired.  Let  me  do  that,'  or  *  Bessie, 
dear,  do  go  out  and  get  a  breath  of  fresh  hair,'  or 
'You  must  'ave  an  'oliday  Sunday' — quite  as  if 
she  'd  been  a  child  of  my  own." 

She  spoke  in  a  whimpering  voice,  and  confirmed 
her  affection  by  dabbing  her  eyes  with  a  shocking 
remnant  of  a  cotton  handkerchief. 

"Where  is  she  now?  That's  what  I  want  t*j 
know,"  Tyson  demanded. 

"  Ah,  that  I  can't  sav,  sir." 

"  When  did  you  see  her  last  ? " 

"  Not  since  she  left  me." 

"  How  long  ago  was  that — can't  you  remember  ? " 

"Now,  let  me  see;  I'd  left  Worrall  Street— I 
could  n't  afford  it — and  it  was  n't  in  Croxteth  Street, 
because  I  'd  that  impident  minx  of  an  Ellen  Wag- 
staffe  there — she  as  got  me  into  all  that  trouble — " 

"  Trouble  ?     What  trouble  ? " 

Mrs.  Twiggs  dabbed  her  eyes  again.  "They're 
always  taking  advantage  of  a  poor  woman,"  she 
snivelled.  "  It  was  all  a  pack  or  lies,  it  was,  every 
word  of  it !  She  spread  it,  the  ungrateful  'ussy,  as  I 
abused  her — beat  her  and  did  n't  give  her  enough  to 
eat — Me ! — Me  as  is  kindness  itself  to  them  and  spoils 

165 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


them  so  as  they  are  surprised  when  they  get  to  other 
situations.  She  was  such  a  liar — excuse  me,  sir — that 
she  o^ite  imposed  on  the  police  and  the  magistrates! 

"  No,"  she  went  on,  "  it  was  n't  in  Croxteth  Street, 
and  it  wasn't  in  Marine  Yillas — I  didn't  stay  there 
long,  the  rent  was  that  'igh — and  it  was  n't  in  Hoy- 
lake  Crescent." 

It  was  evident  to  Tyson  that  she  was  what  is  called 
in  American  politics  a  "  floater." 

u  Ah,  now,  I  've  got  it,  sir,"  she  decided.  "  It  was 
in  Smith  wick  Terrace;  that's  where  it  was — a 
beautiful  house,  you  'd  say  if  you  saw  it,  sir,  but  the 
drains  was  n't  right,  and  that 's  the  reason  I  gave  it 
up.  'Ealth  is  every  think,  and  I  'm  so  partic'lar." 

"  In  Smithwick  Terrace.  I  heard  that ;  but  how 
long  ago  ? " 

She  counted  five  on  the  finger-tips  visible  through 
her  gloves.  "  Five  years  ago,  come  next  November 
— that  was  it." 

"  You  took  boarders  there,  and  Elizabeth — Bessie 
was  maid-of -all- work  in  your  house  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  'ad  to,  me  'usband  being  gone — not 
that  I  was  brought  up  to  any  such  think.  I  was  born 
a  lady,  I  was.  When  my  'usband  was  alive  we  'ad  a 
semi-detached  villa  at  Knotty  Ash,  and  kept  our  own 
page  and  a  gig,  we  did  indeed,  sir." 

"  How  many  boarders  had  you  at  a  time  ? " 

"  Well,  when  we  was  full  there  might  be  eight — 
all  nice  gentlemen,  and  very  respectable  every  one  of 
them.  There  was  Mr.  Jebbs,  him  as  is  now  pantry 
steward  in  the  '  Marmora,'  and  Mr.  Griggs  as  is  quar 
termaster  in  the  i  Caliph,'  and— 

"  Never  mind  about  that.  Bessie  did  all  the  work, 
did  n't  she?" 

166 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  She  was  a  'ard  worker,  and  no  mistake,  she  was. 
Not  that  I  ever  imposed  on  her,  poor  gal !  She 
was  n't  the  sort  as  can  be  imposed  on  ;  very  'igh  spe- 
rited.  <  JSTow  Bessie,  do  sit  down  and  rest  yourself 
an'  'ave  a  cup  of  tea,'  I  'd  say  to  her,  or  '  You  've 
done  all  as  you  oughter  do  to-day,  Bessie,  mjr  love. 
Do  n't  you  want  to  go  out  and  look  at  the  shops  and 
buy  some  little  think  for  yourself?  There's  the 
money,  dear'  —  quite  like  as  if  she'd  been  my  own 
child." 

Tyson  listened  intently,  nodding  his  head  now  and 
then,  and  sighing,  but  sifting  the  probabilities  as  they 
presented  themselves  under  the  cloud  of  Mrs.  Twiggs' 
glibness. 

"  She  must  have  been  very  fond  of  you,  poor  child ! " 
he  said  craftily.  "  How  did  she  come  to  leave  you  ? 
I  hope  she  was  grateful  to  you." 

"  Oh,  gals,  even  the  best  of  them,  will  get  notions 
into  their  'eads ;  they  'ear  so  much  and  read  them 
papers  so  nowadays.  You  see,  it  was  all  along  of 
her  talking  with  them  minxes  in  the  neighbours' 
'ouses,  jangling  as  they  do  morning,  noon  and 
night." 

"  You  didn't  discharge  her?  I  hope  it  wasn't  as 
bad  as  that  ? "  Tyson  asked,  with  more  dissimula 
tion  than  he  had  ever  practised  in  all  his  life  before. 

"  Discharge  her  ?  Oh  no,  sir !  I  'd  'ave  'ad  her 
with  me  now,  and  been  glad  to,  if  it  'ad  been  me.  I 
miss  her  even  yet,  she  was  such  a  nice  gal,  though  she 
was  that  'igh-sperited." 

"  She  did  give  you  notice  when  she  was  going  ? " 

"  Let  me  see !  No,  I  can't  say  as  she  did,  but  I 
did  n't  mind  that,  sir,  though  it  did  hurt  me  bad,  it 
did,  I  being  so  fond  of  her,  poor  child ! " 

167 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Kan  away,  did  she— like  Ellen  Wagstaffe  ?  But 
Bessie  made  no  trouble  for  you  with  the  police,  eh? 
That  showed  how  she  appreciated  your  kindness — 
that  she  had  some  decency  about  her." 

A  sterile  tear  trickled  down  Mrs.  Twiggs'  wrinkles 
as  she  shrewdly  scanned  Tyson's  cryptic  visage. 
"  Wild  'osses  could  n't  drag  a  word  out  of  me  against 
Bessie,"  she  vowed. 

"And  you  never  saw  her — never  heard  of  her 
again  after  she  left  you  ? " 

"  No,  poor  darling.  I  was  nigh  heart-broke  about 
it." 

She  looked  rather  sourly  and  depreciatingly  at  the 
coin  he  gave  her,  and  sniffing  and  gathering  her  be 
draggled  skirts,  she  crept  down  the  steps  of  the  hotel 
and  vanished  in  the  lingering  yellow  fog. 

The  wind  was  rising  again,  and  between  the  wings 
of  the  tattered  clouds  flying  inland  from  the  sea  hung 
a  few  pale  stars.  The  lamps  threw  flashes  of  light 
on  the  wet  sidewalk,  and  fumbled  with  long  tremu 
lous  fingers  in  the  churnings  of  slippery  mud.  Above 
the  rattle  of  wheels  and  the  shuffle  of  feet  could  still 
be  heard  the  shrill  cries  of  the  hawkers.  Spots  of 
flaring  colours  were  added  to  the  dingy  throng  by 
tawdry,  flaunting,  painted  women. 

Tyson  recalled  Culvercombe  and  all  its  pleasant 
surroundings — the  sweet  air  of  the  downs  and  their 
sleepy  undulations  ;  the  violet  sea ;  the  gently  surg 
ing,  billowy  foliage — as  a  distant  dream,  and  in  his 
awakening  he  seemed  to  have  toiled  down  as  a  pe 
nance  into  another  world  of  a  heavy-faced  and  joyless 
people,  groping  in  mire  and  gloom.  And  the  sacri 
fice  and  the  pain  had  been  to  no  purpose ;  for  Bessie, 
after  all  his  efforts,  was  still  no  nearer  to  him,  and 

168 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


still  she  eluded  alike  his  yearnings  and  all  his  devices 
to  recover  her. 

The  inspiration  of  one  thing  more  to  be  done  drew 
him  into  the  writing-room,  and  there  he  wondered 
that  he  had  not  thought  of  it  sooner.  He  would  ad 
vertise.  Why  had  so  obvious  a  resource  not  been 
thought  of  before  ?  Why  had  not  Leathley,  Leath- 
ley  and  Leathley,  the  solicitors,  suggested  it  ? 

Two  days  later,  when  Lord  Langdale  and  Pewster 
were  resting  after  a  game  in  the  billiard  room  of 
Langdale  Hall,  Pewster  picked  up  a  London  paper 
and  glanced  at  it  between  sips  of  his  whiskey  and 
soda. 

Lord  Langdale  was  dozing.  He  bore  an  evasive 
resemblance  to  Julian,  without  the  younger  brother's 
beauty,  refinement,  or  amiability.  Projecting  eyes 
and  a  coarse-lipped  mouth  were  the  most  prominent 
features  in  his  flabby  and  flushed  face.  The  resem 
blance  was  blurred,  perplexing  and  tantalizing,  like 
one  image  superimposed  on  another  in  a  so-called 
*  *  composite  "  portrait. 

An  advertisement  caught  Pewster's  eye  and  he 
shook  the  paper  to  call  his  companion's  attention 
to  it. 

t"  What  is  it  ?  What  do  you  want  now  ? "  his  lord 
ship  demanded  testily. 

"  That 's  the  fellow  I  've  been  talking  to  you  about 
—  Tyson,  Julian's  friend !  I  '11  bet  ten  to  a  hundred 
it's  him.  Listen — let  me  read  it  to  you.  A  very 
liberal  reward  will  be  paid  for  any  information  as  to 
the  whereabouts  of  Elizabeth  Tyson,  who  about  five 
years  ago  was  employed  as  a  maid-of-all-worJc  in  the 
service  of  Mrs.  Addbert  Twiggs,  at  No.  13,  Smith- 
wick  Terrace,  Wakeport.  Communicate  with  Messrs. 

169 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Leathley,  Leathley  and  Leathley.  %01  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields,  W.  C» 

Pewster  let  the  paper  fall  by  his  chair  in  his  en 
joyment,  and  laughed  hoarsely.  "  That  's  the  girl  he 
used  to  talk  about — a  slavey,  a  little  girl  of  all 
work !  Damn  him  !  Is  n't  it  delicious !  That's  the 
gentleman  who  wants  Culvercombe — that  called  me 
down  in  the  train  the  other  day !  Did  n't  I  tell  you 
he  was  born  in  the  gutter  ?  Yes,  born  in  the  gutter, 
by  God ! " 

Lord  Langdale  yawned,  and  as  he  closed  his  eyes, 
drawled  nonchalantly,  "  Well,  well — what  of  it  ? 
Is  n't  that  where  all  you  fellows  were  born  ?  You 
can't  surprise  me  by  anything  of  that  kind,  Pewster." 


170 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XV.     In  which  Pewster  Con 
templates  Revenge 


ENCOURAGED  by  the  thought  that  what 
he  was  doing  would  please  Mary  Leigh, 
though  this  was  not  of  course  the  leading 
motive,  Tyson  remained  in  the  neighbour 
hood  of  Wakeport  several  weeks  longer, 
and  continued  his  quest.    Mary  had  be 
come  a  subtle  power  in  his  life,  and  without  realizing 
it  he  submitted  himself  to  the  compulsion  of  an  in 
fluence  which  he  hardly  dared  to  acknowledge.     He 
was  agitated  by  a  vague  unrest  which  made  every 
day  seem  incomplete  and  disappointing  from  some 
omission  or  vacancy ;  he  could  not  concentrate  him 
self  on  anything,  and  was  pulled  and  chafed  this  way 
and  that  by  unseen  strings ;  the  sky  was  overhead, 
but  as  with  a  newly  caught  bird,  there  were  bars  be 
tween  him  and  his  longing. 

He  scoured  the  highways  and  byways  of  his  native 
place,  and  penetrated  beyond  into  the  smaller  villages 
and  towns,  all  lying  under  the  smoky  pall  of  manu 
factures  and  mining.  The  paths  and  lanes  were 
made  of  cinders  ;  the  struggling  green  of  the  foliage 
was  powdered  with  coal  dust  and  soot,  and  old  half- 

171 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


timbered  farm-houses  and  red  sandstone  manor  houses 
stood  in  shrunken  acres,  their  meadows,  gardens  and 
orchards  absorbed  by  the  collieries,  with  heaps  of  slag 
in  place  of  hay-ricks,  and  blackened  scaffolds  in  place 
of  trees.  The  grass  withered  in  the  poison  of  chem 
icals  and  the  tall  chimneys  flung  out  pennons  and 
columns  of  smoke.  Rows  and  rows  of  two-roomed 
cottages  of  plaster,  slate  and  brick,  were  peopled  by 
slatternly  women  and  filthy  children,  and  surly  be 
grimed  men  crowded  against  the  walls  and  puffed 
their  pipes  between  the  "shifts"  in  the  galleried, 
tunnelled,  honey-combed  recesses  of  the  lightless 
world  below  in  which  they  spent  their  working 
hours. 

Every  glimpse  of  poverty  and  squalor  created  new 
torments  for  Tyson  in  the" thought  of  the  cruel  pos 
sibilities  of  Bessie's  fate. 

The  advertisement  produced  a  flood  of  letters,  but 
none  of  them  contained  any  satisfying  information. 
The  name  of  Elizabeth  Tyson  was  common  every 
where,  and  particularly  in  W  akeport  and  its  neigh 
bourhood.  Twenty  bearers  of  it  presented  themselves 
at  the  offices  of  Leathley,  Leathley  and  Leathley, 
with  a  reckless  ambition  to  be  identified  as  the  per 
son  sought,  regardless  of  consequences  and  obliviour 
of  antecedents,  and  they  looked  upon  themselves  as 
victims  of  a  heartless  hoax,  and  demanded  money 
for  their  railway  journeys,  their  time  and  trouble, 
their  immediate  and  future  necessities,  when  they 
were  rejected,  though  none  of  them  could  establish 
a  knowledge  of  the  motherly  care  and  benevolence 
of  Mrs.  Adelbert  Twiggs. 

Mrs.  Skirving  grew  more  peevish  with  the  children 
and  servants  of  the  workhouse  than  usual,  and  pro- 

172 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


crastinated  her  duties  in  making  trips  to  town  and 
inquiries  that  might  entitle  her  to  a  share  of  Tyson's 
munificence.  Tompkins  schemed  like  a  sanguine 
spider  in  a  freshly  spun  web  on  a  breathless  dog-day 
morning.  His  gambling  and  "  competitions  "  were 
put  aside  and  he  quarrelled  with  his  friend  Frisbie, 
who,  caught  by  the  contagion  of  the  search,  was  prov 
ing  too  meddlesome.  Dropping  other  recreations, 
Tompkins  plied  himself  and  plumed  himself  in  the  ex 
hilarating  and  esoteric  activities  of  an  avocation 
which  he  regarded  as  secret  service.  He  had  not  read 
detective  stories  and  police  reports  to  no  purpose,  and 
he  slyly  nursed  the  germ  of  a  plot  which  kept  him 
awake  at  night  and  made  his  eyes  redder  and  more 
"  ratty  "  than  ever  in  the  morning.  ...  If  the 
real  Elizabeth  could  not  be  produced  it  would  not  be 
impossible  to  find  a  "  double  "  for  her,  and  groping  in 
the  contingent  maze  he  conspired  for  better  profits 
than  any  yet  spoken  or  dreamed  of. 

Nor  was  the  advertisement  merely  read  and  then 
dismissed  from  the  mind  of  Pewster.  Pinned  to  a 
cushion  it  was  constantly  under  the  eye  of  the  mush 
room  financier  as  he  sat  at  his  desk  in  his  luxuriantly 
appointed  offices  in  Lombard  Street.  Other  papers 
involving  millions  and  many  spectacular  enterprises 
were  there  in  files  and  bundles,  but  above  them  and 
between  his  calendar  and  his  clock  the  little  news 
paper  clipping  stood  out,  to  be  read  and  gloated  over 
as  often  as  he  encountered  it.  The  satisfaction  it 
gave  him  was  not  lessened  when  he  read  after  his 
return  from  Langdale  Hall  a  letter  from  Leathley, 
Leathley  and  Leathley,  begging  to  inform  him  that 
they  were  instructed  by  Lady  Cheam  to  say  that  she 
could  not  accept  his  obliging  offer  for  Culvercombe, 

173 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


as  she  had  made  other  arrangements  than  those  pro 
posed  for  renting  that  estate. 

"  I  '11  pay  her  up  for  that,"  he  swore,  "and  him 
too." 

And  when  he  went  home  he  said  savagely  to  his 
wife,  "  There  are  such  a  lot  of  flunkies  about  this 
house  that  I  '11  bet  you  a  fiver  you  do  n't  even  know 
the  names  of  all  of  them.  Do  you  now  \ " 

Mrs.  Pewster's  hands,  still  big  and  red  from  the 
drudgery  of  her  own  housework  in  a  "  maisonette  "  in 
Clapham,  had  resisted  the  arts  of  manicure,  but  she 
held  in  them  a  lorgnette  of  gold  and  diamonds,  which 
she  raised  with  the  best  air  of  a  stage  duchess. 

"Oh,  don't  try  those  monkey  tricks  on  me — they 
do  n't  go ! "  her  husband  protested.  "  Just  find  out — 
that 's  all  I  want  you  to  do.  Find  out  if  we  've  got 
an  Elizabeth  Tyson  in  the  scullery  or  the  kitchen — 
that 's  where  she  belongs.  Tell  the  butler  to  inquire 
— show  him  that  advertisement — tell  him  that  I'm 
a  friend  of  Mr.  Tyson's  and  take  an  interest  in  the 
girl.  My  God!  What  a  joke  it  would  be  if  we 
could  get  her  into  our  service  I " 


174 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XVf.       In  which  a  Difficulty 
is  Removed 


WHEN  Tyson  revisited  Culvercombe  it 
was  as  a  tenant,  but  Lady  Cheam  re 
mained  undisturbed  as  mistress  of 
the  household — an  arrangement  which 
gave  occasion  for  some  raillery  be 
tween  them. 

"  Keally,  now,  I  feel  as  if  I  were  standing  on 
the  edge  of  a  precipice,  like  somebody  in  one  of 
those  wicked  French  novels.  I  like  going  to  the 
edge  and  peeping  down — I  always  did  ;  it  gives  me 
such  a  delicious  thrill — and  what  does  it  matter  so 
long  as  one  keeps  one's  head?  People  who  can't 
keep  their  heads  lose  so  much  pleasure  in  life — they 
are  always  coming  to  grief.  I '  ve  always  had  a  strong 
head  and  known  how  to  say,  c  So  far  and  no  farther ' 
— it 's  really  indispensable — but  one  need  n't  say  it 
too  soon." 

"  All  I  can  say,  Lady  Cheam,  is  that  I  'm  satisfied 
with  the  arrangement  if  you  are.  It 's  very  good  of 
you  to  save  me  so  much  trouble.  Just  regard  me  as 
a  boarder,  or  what  they  call  a  paying  guest.  Do 
what  you  like — order  what  you  please,  invite  whom 

175 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


you  please — except  Pewster.  We  do  n't  want  him, 
do  we?" 

"  No,  certainly  not.  He  sent  me  a  very  uncivil 
letter." 

"  Keep  the  house  full,"  Tyson  continued.  "  I  like 
it ;  the  more  the  merrier." 

"Gleg?" 

"  I  do  n't  mind.  There 's  more  in  what  he  says 
than  I  thought  there  was.  I  've  seen  the  prosperous 
gin-drinking  neighbourhood." 

"  Lord  and  Lady  Komer  ? " 

"  If  you  like ;  though  her  voice  jars  me.  I  feel 
like  stepping  aside  when  I  hear  it — it  sounds  like  the 
rattle  of  a  snake  on  the  plains." 

"  How  clever  you  are !  That  describes  it  exactly. 
I  never  heard  a  rattlesnake  rattle,  but  I  can  imagine 
it.  You  've  heard  it  in  the  West  thousands  of  times, 
of  course." 

"  Oh,  you  need  n't  be  on  the  plains  to  hear  it.  I  'm 
afraid  it  can  be  heard  wherever  men  and  women 
are." 

"  Oh,  you  cynic !  That  trip  to  the  north  has  not 
agreed  with  you." 

"  It  was  n't  much  of  a  success ;  I  '11  own  that  much, 
but  I  have  n't  given  uj>  hoping  yet." 

"  The  Duke  of  Mercia  ? "  said  Lady  Cheam,  sound 
ing  him  further  as  to  possible  guests/  "  He  has  often 
been  down  in  September." 

"  I  was  n't  cut  out  for  association  with  royalty." 

"  He  dotes  on  Americans,"  said  Lady  Cheam. 

"  All  right,"  replied  Tyson. 

She  ran  through  several  other  nominations,  which 
he  delegated  to  her  own  pleasure. 

"  And  Miss  Leigh  and  the  bishop  " — he  suggested, 

176 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Can't  yon  get  them  here  ?  Let 's  have  all  of  them 
we  can,  eh  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Mary  is  a  cousin,  you  know.  She  always 
makes  herself  at  home  here.  Hardly  a  week  passes 
that  she  does  n't  come  over  from  Winsbury." 

Lady  Cheam  accompanied  this  information  with 
a  smile  of  comprehension,  not  without  sagacity  and 
not  without  prejudice. 

"  You  won't  say  a  word  to  her  about  any  change — 
any  arrangement  ?  "  said  Tyson. 

"  Not  if  you  do  n't  wish  it." 

"  Not  a  word.  It  might  embarrass  her — it  might 
keep  her  away.  I  like  her.  But  remember,  you  are 
queen  here." 

"No;  you  are  king  here.     I  am  prime  minister." 

"  No,"  Tyson  insisted ;  "  I  'm  only  the  boarder ;  and 
by  the  way,"  he  added,  as  he  went  to  a  small  table 
and  filled  a  check,  "  you  ought  to  have  some  of  the 
board  money  in  advance,  and  I  must  settle  with  you 
on  account  of  those  shares  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba  you 
bought.  I  've  sold  them." 

"  Did  you  ?    Did  they  go  up  ? " 

"  Just  a  little — only  five  points." 

"  That  shows  a  profit,  does  n't  it  ? "  her  ladyship 
asked,  breathing  quickly  with  the  rapturous  anticipa 
tion  of  a  child  in  a  toy-shop. 

"  A  trifle — enough  to  keep  the  wolf  away  from  the 
door." 

"  Tell  me  how  much — do !  "  she  urged. 

He  handed  her  the  check,  and  when  she  glanced  at 
the  figures  she  glided  towards  him  and  patted  his  cheek. 

"  On,  you  dear  ! "  she  cried.  "  You  are  ever  so 
much  cleverer  and  nicer  than  that  creature  Pewster. 
I  'm  glad  you  told  me  about  him." 

L  177 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


The  odour  of  flowers,  the  silvery  twitter  of  the 
robins,  the  glow  of  strong  sunshine,  again  filled  the 
luxurious  drawing-room,  and  Tyson  looked  with  the 
satisfaction  of  possession  on  the  embossed  and  pan 
elled  ceiling,  the  tapestried  walls,  the  marble  columns 
and  buttresses  of  the  high  canopied  mantel,  the  grace 
ful  forms  of  the  furniture  in  gold  and  pale  tints  of 
brocade  and  damask,  and  the  iridescent  jars  full  of 
long-stemmed  blooms. 

Midsummer  was  over ;  there  were  fewer  flowers  in 
the  garden ;  the  foliage  was  touched  with  bronze, 
and  rifts  between  the  leaves  opened  hitherto  unseen 
gleams  of  sea  and  sky.  The  wine  of  autumn  was 
mounting  in  the  woodbine  under  the  eaves.  But 
where  the  June  roses  had  been,  gladioli  now  rose  in 
flamboyant  streams ;  the  fuchsias  glowed  like  coals 
of  fire,  and  spilt  their  life-blood  in  pools  on  the 
ground;  honeysuckle  and  geraniums  climbed  over 
porch  and  windowsill ;  the  mountain  ash  was  strung 
with  coral  berries ;  asters  of  every  colour  lined  every 
path;  drifts  of  crimson  valerian  flowed  along  the 
solid  grey  stone  retaining  walls  of  the  sunken  lanes 
between  the  gardens;  and  the  magnolias  in  moon- 
like  whiteness  unfolded  their  chalices  to  the  warmth 
of  noon. 

While  Tyson  was  feeding  a  tame  robin  at  one  of 
the  windows  Lady  Cheam  oeckoned  him.  She  was 
excited  by  something  she  had  just  read  in  the  morn 
ing  newspaper. 

"  Listen  to  this  ;  listen  to  this  !  "  she  cried,  and  as 
he  approached  her  he  assumed  that  she  had  fallen  on 
his  own  advertisement.  He  had  not  spoken  of  that 
to  her,  and  he  shrank  now  from  it  as  a  revelation  of 
ignominy  greater  than  she  or  anybody  could  surmise 

178 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


without  an  extinction  of  respect.  "What  she  pointed 
at,  however,  was  "  Naval  and  Military  Intelligence," 
and  the  paragraph  she  read  merely  stated  that  the 
9th  Lancers  had  been  ordered  to  India. 

"His  regiment  —  his  regiment  —  Captain  Hugh 
DunmaiFs,"  she  explained.  "  It  is  he  who  has  made 
threats  against  Julian,  and  made  me  so  ill.  And 
now,  thank  God  !  he  is  going  away,  and  Julian,  poor 
boy,  can  come  home." 

"  I  do  n't  understand." 

"  Oh,  he 's  a  perfect  little  monster — a  creepy,  crawly 
little  man,  with  a  whispering  voice  like  an  usher's  in 
a  church,  and  nobody  to  speak  of,  but  a  big  white 
head  with  eyes  like  gimlets,  and  the  instincts  of  a 
savage." 

Tyson's  face  was  still  blank. 

"  The  brother  of  Gerald  Dunmail,  you  know — the 
brother-in-law  of  that  idiot  of  a  woman  who  made 
all  that  trouble." 

Tyson  laughed  indulgently. 

"  Is  it  as  serious  as  all  that  ?  That  does  n't  sound 
like  England  —  going  to  draw  a  gun  on  Julian  ! " 

"  But  he's  one  of  those  Highlanders  —  they'll  do 
anything.  They  are  less  than  half  civilized.  They 
are  as  primitive  as  monkeys,  and  as  ferocious  as 
tigers.  Oh,  how  I  detest  them !  And  this  little 
creature,  Hugh  Dunmail,  is  full  of  all  sorts  of  bar 
baric  ideas  of  revenge.  He  ought  to  be  sent  to  a 
lunatic  asylum  instead  of  to  India,  but  thank  God 
he's  going  somewhere,  and  Julian  can  come  home  ! 
Only  think  of  it,"  she  went  on,  when  she  recovered 
her  breath,  "  the  poor  boy  has  been  away  since  Ma}^, 
and  now  it's  September!  You  must  telegraph  to 
him  and  tell  him  ;  or  shall  I  do  it  ?  " 

179 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"I  have  n't  got  his  address.  Tasked  Miss  Plant 
for  it,  but  she  didn't  answer.  He  was  to  write  to 
me,  but  he  has  n't.  I  '11  try  another  cable  right  now. 
I  want  to  see  the  dear  old  man  again." 

"  He  has  his  faults,"  Lady  Cheam  confessed,  with 
a  tear. 

"He's  a  man,"  Tyson  admitted. 

"  So  affectionate  !  So  amiable  !  So  handsome ! 
He  hasn't  my  prudence — my  head — my  resolu 
tion." 

"  Too  good-natured  ;  that 's  it,"  Tyson  affirmed. 

"  Too  easily  persuaded  and  misled  ;  too  generous 
to  say  '  no.'  Langdale  and  I  have  much  more  strength 
of  character.  I  really  surprise  myself  sometimes  by 
the  way  I  say  '  no.'  There 's  everything  in  the  way 
one  does  that,  isn't  there?  It's  the  foundation  of 
character,  I  say ;  but  it's  a  struggle  ! " 

The  memory  of  rare  psychological  moments  in 
which  the  negative  had  prevailed  drew  a  deep  sigh 
from  Lady  Cheam.  "  Oh,  those  two  little  letters  de 
prive  us  of  so  much  pleasure ! "  she  murmured. 
**  They  snatch  away  our  chiffon  and  put  us  in  hair 
shirts ;  but  one  must — one  MUST  say  them — now 
and  then ! " 


180 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XVI L    In  which  Tyson 
the  Bishop     : 


FKOM  that  afternoon  on,  Culvercombe  was 
filled  with  guests,   and  there   were  few 
among  them,   except    Lady  Komer    and 
Lady  Hilda  Horsham,  who  did  not  take 
to  Tyson.     Though  the  racy  slang  of  the 
West  flavoured  his  speech  he  never  failed 
in  good  taste,  and  he  rapidly  acquired  a  new  ease  of 
bearing  as  he  became  accustomed  to  his  surround 
ings. 

lie  found  an  opportunity  to  tell  Mary  of  the  fail 
ure  of  his  search,  and  she  listened  quietly  to  him 
with  that  look  in  her  face  which  lay  there  as  elu- 
sively  as  light  on  a  white  flower.  In  that  look  her 
face  seemed  to  Tyson  to  melt  into  an  essence  like 
that  of  a  compassionate  angel.  He  told  her  of  his 
failure  without  disclosing  all  the  circumstances ;  he 
could  not  bring  himself  to  tell  her  what  Bessie  had 
been — to  reveal  all  the  misery  of  that  lost  life  in 
Wakeport.  He  taunted  himself  with  the  suppres 
sion,  but  he  could  not  shock  her  and  humiliate  him 
self  by  revealing  to  her  all  the  details.  He  must — 
he  would — some  time,  but  not  yet.  So  he  hinted 
and  suggested,  but  checked  himself  before  he  reached 

181 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


a  confession  which  might  evoke  pity,  but  would  cover 
him  with  shame. 

Tyson's  rugged  visage  has  already  been  spoken  of. 
He  was  not  handsome  ;  but  when  he  was  amused  his 
laugh  bubbled  as  naturally  as  a  spring,  and  when  his 
sympathies  were  touched  his  eyes  sparkled  with 
transfiguring  kindliness.  As  a  rule  his  geniality  dis 
guised  or  cloaked  what  was  irregular  in  his  features, 
and  the  readiest  and  most  frequent  description  of  him 
was  the  simplest — "  a  pleasant-looking  man." 

He  smiled  and  listened  to  the  people  around  him, 
and  sometimes  under  pressure  talked  cheerfully  of  the 
West — of  Nona  and  the  Senator ;  of  plains  as  vast 
as  oceans ;  of  dewless  skies  thrilling  with  stars  at 
night  and  domed  in  cloudless  azure  by  day ;  of  the 
illusive  distances  and  spaces  in  which  mountains  and 
mesas  seemed  to  follow  the  horseman  as  he  went 
away  from  them  ;  of  the  singing  of  the  cottonwoods 
in  arroyas  and  canons  ;  and  of  the  glitter  of  the  man- 
zanita  and  the  scent  of  giant  pines.  Memory  and 
affection  tugged  his  heart  strings,  but  his  heart  itself 
clung  to  the  present  scene  for  more  reasons  than  could 
be  found  in  the  serenity  of  the  landscape  and  all  the 
fascination  of  England's  mellow  beauty. 

The  women  spoke  of  him  over  their  tea-cups. 

"  He  does  n't  seem  like  a  cowboy  at  all,"  said  Lady 
Hilda  Horsham,  one  of  those  girls  with  long  waists, 
stooping  shoulders,  and  aquiline  features,  who  have  a 
vogue  in  England  through  a  prevailing,  though  a  per 
verted,  taste  for  the  angular  in  feminine  form. 

"  He  is  n't  a  cowboy,"  Mary  retorted.  "  He  's  a 
mining  engineer." 

"Isn't  he  rather  primitive,"  Lady  Hilda  per 
sisted. 

182 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Have  another  piece  of  sugar,"  said  Mary  replen 
ishing  her  interlocutor's  cup. 

"  He  blushes ;  it 's  so  funny.  I  saw  him  blush 
when  you  spoke  to  him  yesterday,  Mary,"  tittered 
Gladys  Compton,  the  youngest  of  the  party,  a  dollish 
girl  with  blue  eyes  and  yellow  hair.  "  He  was 
thinking,  and  when  you  turned  to  him  at  dessert  he 
blushed  and  nearly  upset  his  wine  glass.  I  suppose 
he  was  ashamed  of  being  so  absent-minded.  Blush 
ing  is  embarrassing,  is  n't  it  ?  I  do  n't  see  why  he 
should  blush,  though." 

"  But  perhaps  you  were  mistaken,"  rejoined  Mary. 
"  Do  let  me  give  you  another  muffin,  Gladys.  Some 
toast,  Alice  ? " 

She  held  the  toast  towards  Lady  Komer,  who  had 
covered  her  with  a  probing  gaze  of  interrogation, 
which  she  met  with  open  and  imperturbable  eyes. 

"  He  has  no  distinction — none  of  them  have,"  her 
ladyship  declared.  "  How  can  they  be  otherwise  ? 
But  we  idealize  all  of  them.  If  a  man  herds  cattle  in 
England,  or  drives  them  to  market,  he  is  a  herdsman 
or  a  drover,  and  keeps  his  place  as  one  of  the  lowest 
of  creatures  ;  but  when  he 's  in  America  and  is  called 
a  cowboy  we  are  asked  to  believe  he  becomes  some 
thing  heroic.  Kidiculous!  For  my  part,  I'd  as 
soon  choose  my  guests  from  Smithfield  as  from  Omaha 
or  Denver,  or  any  such  pig-sty  s." 

"  Mr.  Tyson  is  not  a  cowboy,"  Mary  repeated  im 
patiently,  "and — " 

Gladys  intervened  at  this  moment.  "  There 's  a 
book  on  blushing,  Mary ;  I  saw  it  advertised  the  other 
day.  Do  you  think  it  would  be  interesting  ? " 

Lady  Hilda  laughed.  "  What  is  the  name  of  it, 
Gladys  \ " 

183 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  *  Why  we  Blush,'  I  think." 

"  Then  get  it  by  all  means.  It  might  explain  what 
Mary  keeps  to  herself." 

"  All  this  nonsense  because  somebody  blushes ! " 
said  Lady  Cheam.  "  Is  it  so  extraordinary  \  When 
I  was  a  girl  blushing  was  not  so  rare  as  it  is  now 
adays." 

"  Perhaps  there  was  more  occasion  for  it  when  you 
were  a  girl,  Cousin  Julia,"  Lady  Hilda  murmured. 

"  Not  nearly  so  much.     Girls  were  girls  then." 

"  And  what  are  they  now  ? " 

"Like  bad  boys." 

"  Come,  cousin  ! "  continued  Lady  Hilda,  "  all  the 
paragons  do  not  belong  to  previous  generations." 

"  But  what  were  we  talking  about  ? "  Lady  Cheam 
inquired  in  the  maze  of  irrelevancy. 

"Mr.  Tyson,"  said  Gladys.  "Isn't  he  extraor 
dinary  ?  He 's  so  fond  of  poetry.  Why,  he  knows 
Tennyson  like — like  a  book.  And  all  the  poets — but 
especially  Tennyson.  When  we  were  riding  to  Gods- 
hill  the  other  day  he  recited  all  that  part  about  Ex- 
calibur.  He  knew  it  by  heart.  I  did  n't  know  what 
Excalibur  was  till  then.  I  thought  it  was  one  of 
those  Highland  games." 

"Yes,  they  are  great  readers  in  America,"  said 
Mary. 

"  He  is  quite  uneducated,"  snapped  Lady  Komer. 
"  I  could  see  at  dinner  last  night,  when  Homer  spoke 
of  Horace  and  quoted  one  of  the  eclogues,  that  he 
did  not  understand  a  word  of  it ;  and  he  was  also  at 
sea  when  it  came  to  Greek." 

"Uneducated  as  Shakespeare  was  uneducated," 
Mary  suggested. 

"  Now  I  remember,"  exclaimed  Gladys.     "  That 

184 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


was  when  he  blushed — when  Lord  Homer  talked  to 
him  in  Latin." 

"  Ah !  I  see !  "  cried  Hilda.  "  He  was  ashamed 
of  being  such  a  dunce." 

"  Eeally,  Hilda,"  said  Mary  haughtily,  "  you  ought 
to  be  more  sympathetic  with  dunces." 

"  Mary,  you  are  a  pig ! "  Hilda  protested. 

"  Hilda,  you  are  a  viper ! "  retorted  Mary. 

And  then  they  both  laughed,  Hilda  drily,  Mary 
without  animosity  and  with  the  clearness  of  a  bell. 

"  Where  are  we — what  were  we  talking  about  ? " 
murmured  Lady  Cheam,  from  an  easy  chair  in  which 
she  had  been  dozing. 

"  Mr.  Tyson,"  explained  Gladys  again. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  he 's  a  perfect  dear.  When  I  was  a 
girl — "  and  Lady  Cheam  fell  asleep  again. 

Hilda  strove  for  the  final  word.  "  He 's  not  *  the 
real  thing.'  '  The  real  thing '  would  have  '  bluffed ' 
Lord  Homer  and  in  the  end  convinced  him,  or  at 
least  the  listeners,  that  he  was  all  wrong,  or  that 
there  was  no  such  language  as  Latin.  The  Americans 
carry  everything  by  '  bluffing ' — there  is  no  end  to 
it ;  it  bowls  you  over,  individuals  and  nations,  like  a 
cannon  ball.  Now  from  what  he  has  told  me  of  Nona, 
as  he  calls  her,  she  must  be  l  the  real  thing ; '  but  he 
— Mr.  Tyson — is  not  star-spangled  enough  for  my 
taste.  I  really  cannot  understand  what  you  see  in 
him,  Mary." 

Mary  was  tempted  to  reply,  but  though  she  had 
the  courage  of  her  convictions,  it  dawned  on  her  that 
she  had  already  been  drawn  into  a  sufficiently  definite 
attitude,  and  she  merely  allowed  herself  to  say, 

"  Nee  scire  fas  est  omnia,  Hilda.  You  can  learn 
that  in  any  dictionary,  but  perhaps  I  'd  better  trans- 

185 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


late  it  for  you,  dear.  It  means  that  we  are  not  per 
mitted  to  know  all  things." 

The  men  who  came  (including  Lord  Romer)  were 
polite  to  Tyson,  but  he  would  have  been  better  pleased 
could  he  have  been  sure  that  the  interest  they  showed 
in  him  dwelt  in  his  personality.  He  was  too  shrewd 
to  deceive  himself  in  that  respect,  and  he  was  amused 
to  see  how  roundabout  the  ways  were  which  led  to 
Sheba. 

The  inquiries  were  not  direct,  nor  were  they  made 
in  the  course  of  open  conversation.  Each  man  chose 
his  own  time,  and  shaped  his  own  preamble.  The 
deplorable  state  of  agriculture  ;  war  office  scandals ; 
the  American  invasion ;  the  fall  in  consols ;  the  price 
of  coal ;  the  decay  of  England ;  the  income  tax ;  and 
the  death  duties — talk  begun  on  these  and  as  various 
topics  had  a  way  of  drifting  to  the  foot  of  Manana 
and  making  a  goal  of  Sheba. 

Whenever  he  was  alone  with  another  man  Tyson 
got  used  to  having  him  come  to  the  mine,  and  it  was 
reached  sooner  or  later  with  as  little  appearance  of 
premeditation  as  of  proper  sequence.  A  casual  "  Oh, 
by  the  way —  "  or  "  Speaking  of  the  States —  "  pre 
pared  Tyson  for  the  inevitable  question.  Now  it 
was  in  the  billiard-room  between  shots  in  the  even 
ing,  when  under  the  strong  reflectors  the  coloured 
balls  lay  like  scattered  carnations  on  a  greensward, 
or  in  the  kennels  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  points 
of  a  setter  or  a  fox  terrier  were  being  exhibited,  or 
over  whiskey  and  soda  in  a  corner  of  the  smoking- 
room  towards  bed-time,  or  on  the  arrival  of  the  mail 
and  the  newspapers  in  the  morning — rarely  was 
Tyson  alone  with  no  others  to  hear  that  he  was  not 
supposably  as  a  result  of  Lady  Cheam's  reticence, 

186 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


asked  about  the  mine  and  the  advisability  of  buying 
the  stock,  either  as  a  "  flyer  "  or  as  an  investment. 

He  strove  to  evade  direct  answers.  "  Oh,  the 
mine 's  all  right  now,  but  you  never  can  tell.  It 's 
1  here  to-day  and  gone  to-morrow'  with  a  mine." 
"  It 's  never  safe  to  advise  about  a  mine.  I  've  seen 
too  many  propositions  of  that  kind  come  to  nothing." 
"  Look  at l  Gin  and  Ginger ! '  Look  at  ever  so  many 
of  them !  I  dropped  a  lot  of  money  in  them.  Many 
of  them  are  like  the  pot  of  gold  at  the  root  of  the 
rainbow  :  there 's  nothing  in  them." 

Then  apologies  and  excuses  followed,  but — Of 
course  there  was  always  an  element  of  risk  in  a  mine, 
but  from  all  that  was  said  of  Sheba  it  was  an  un 
commonly  fine  property,  and  it  had  demonstrated  its 
value.  Of  course  Tyson's  secrecy  and  unwillingness 
to  "  boom  "  his  own  property  showed  a  conservative 
and  a  very  honourable  spirit,  and  that  was  not  like 
some  of  the  hustlers  and  rustlers  who— confound 
them! — often  brought  their  swindling  schemes  to 
England.  But  just  a  whisper!  It  should  go  no 
farther — it  was  recognized  in  any  case  that  there 
were  chances — was  it  too  late  or  too  early  to  buy 
Sheba? 

And  then  Tyson  would  smile,  and  though  he  knew 
that  this  man  would  communicate  with  the  next 
man,  and  that  before  long  the  next  man  would  come 
to  him  to  confirm  this  man's  information,  he  would 
let  his  scruples  yield  to  his  good-nature  and  his  faith 
in  the  mine,  and  say  something  not  definite,  but  suf 
ficient  for  thanks. 

"  Kemember,  I  do  n't  advise — I  am  not  sure — but  I 
do  n't  think  Sheba  is  going  to  sell  at  lower  figures 
this  year." 

187 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Favour  led  to  favour,  and  when  Tyson  had  said  that 
much  in  the  billiard-room  the  conversation  ended 
with  "  Thanks,  old  man,  thanks.  Your  shot.  Well 
done !  Poor  stuff  this  Scotch,  eh  ?  I  got  a  pre 
cious  good  lot  recently — twenty  years  in  bond ;  soft 
as  velvet,  smooth  as  oil.  Let  me  send  you  a 
case." 

Or  in  the  kennels :  "  That 's  not  a  bad  dog,  but 
I  've  got  a  better  one.  You  shall  have  him  if  you  '11 
take  him." 

Or  in  the  smoking-room  :  "  Like  that  cigar  ?  Not 
too  green  for  you  ?  Not  too  hot  ?  The  Prince  of 
Seville  gave  me  two  thousand  of  them  :  no  more  are 
to  be  had  for  love  or  money.  I  've  got  about  a  thou 
sand  left — I  '11  send  them  to  you." 

Thus  Tyson  added  to  the  number  of  his  friends  by 
adding  to  the  numbers  of  stockholders  in  the  Queen 
of  Sheba.  He  was  invited  to  shootings  and  fishings, 
to  country  houses  north  and  south,  from  Sutherland 
to  Devon,  and  on  board  yachts  of  many  dimensions 
and  degrees  of  luxuriousness. 

Everybody  was  pleasant  to  him,  and  as  he  recalled 
his  old  ideas  of  patrician  society  he  laughed  at  the 
boyish  picture  he  had  made  of  its  hauteur,  its  so 
lemnity,  its  condescension,  its  aloofness  and  its  de 
tachment.  There  was  nothing  stilted  or  oppressive, 
no  strut  of  conscious  superiority,  no  excessive  for 
mality,  in  these  representatives  of  it  he  met  at  Culver- 
combe.  They  neither  spoke,  nor  dressed,  nor  behaved 
differently  from  other  people,  and  never  paraded 
their  ancestors  or  mentioned  their  pedigrees,  or 
seemed  to  desire  that  he  should  know  he  belonged 
to  another  order  or  class.  The  only  pompous  one 
among  them  was  an  outsider,  a  little  Malvolio  of  a 

188 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


city  man,  who  had  a  foothold  through  marriage  with 
one  of  Hilda  Horsham's  sisters,  and  had  been  recently 
raised  to  the  small,  promiscuous  honour  of  knight 
hood.  Even  Lady  Komer  and  Hilda  could  not  be 
charged  with  pomposity ;  they  were  simply  cantank 
erous  ;  he  could  see  that  they  did  not  like  him. 

Nor  was  Tyson  the  man  to  endure  the  condescen 
sion  or  patronage  of  anybody.  Through  all  his  early 
struggles  and  poverty  he  had  never  asked  for  charity, 
but  had  faced  adversity  without  complaining  and 
without  even  in  the  direst  distress  revealing  his  ne 
cessities.  His  pride  was  stubborn,  unreasoning  and 
obstructive.  So  far  as  character  was  concerned  he 
had  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,  but  when  the  conver 
sation  at  Culvercombe  turned  from  its  customary 
flow  of  small  talk  and  frivolity  into  deeper  channels, 
and  he  found  himself  at  the  edge  of  depths  into 
which  he  dared  not  venture,  he  was  swept  by  a  burn 
ing  wave  of  chagrin,  and  forced  into  a  humiliating  re 
cognition  of  deficiency.  He  had  committed  to  mem 
ory  long  ago  the  noble  and  pathetic  words  of  Henry 
Clay — "  My  only  inheritance  was  ignorance  and  in 
digence  " — but  they  did  not  comfort  him  when  he 
sat  mute,  embarrassed  and  isolated,  listening  without 
clearly  understanding. 

Sharp  as  his  pain  was,  the  thought  of  Mary  in 
creased  its  poignance.  Had  she  not  been  present — 
had  she  not  dominated  all  his  reflections — he  could 
have  borne  it ;  but  it  was  the  gulf  his  ignorance 
created,  in  his  imagination,  between  him  and  her, 
that  tortured  him  and  renewed  his  despair. 

Notwithstanding  her  beauty,  which  was  not  al 
ways  conceded,  Mary  was  looked  on  by  her  familiars 
as  an  academic  girl  in  whom  romance  and  sentiment 

189 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


were  deficient — a  wilful  spinster,  content  with  her 
condition  and  ungiven  to  the  amatory  visions  and 
meditations  which  should  have  humanized  her  at  her 
time  of  life.  Twice,  to  common  knowledge,  had 
suitors  approached  her.  To  one  she  had  said,  "  I 
like  you,"  and  to  the  other,  "  I  like  you  very  much," 
but  that  had  ended  them.  There  was  no  wavering  in 
her  brevity,  and  no  whisper  of  encouragement  to  wait 
and  persevere,  in  her  manner.  A  third,  who  was  a 
painter,  weighed  the  probabilities  before  plunging, 
and  instead  of  proposing  to  her,  sent  her  a  picture 
symbolizing  "  The  Spirit  of  the  North,"  in  which  a 
spectral  woman,  enthroned  amid  pinnacles  of  pris 
matic  ice,  with  the  aurora  flashing  through  wreath 
ing  sea  fogs  above  and  around  her,  gazed  with  cold, 
hollow,  unpitying  eyes  on  the  dead  bodies  and  splint 
ered  boats  and  sledges  of  the  hapless  adventurers  who 
had  dared  to  violate  her  secrets  and  silences.  She 
scornfully  repudiated  the  likeness  when  her  friends 
gibed  her  by  insisting  on  it,  and  when  Lady  Cheara 
showed  the  picture  to  Tyson  and  explained  its  in 
tention,  he  said,  "  The  picture 's  all  right  as  a  picture, 
but  the  fellow  that  thinks  the  face  is  like  Miss  Leigh's 
can't  see.  She 's  not  a  little  bit  like  that,  in  face  or 
anything.  Why,  she 's  got  the  most  beautiful  smile 
I  ever  saw.  It  comes  into  her  face  like  a  sunbeam 
out  of  the  sky,  and  makes  her  look  like  an  angel. 
Have  n't  you  noticed  it  ? " 

"  But  she  is  ice,"  Lady  Cheam  persisted. 

"  Ice  melts,"  said  he. 

"  Mary  does  n't,"  said  she. 

"  Then  she  is  n't  ice.  No,  sir !  If  she  were  ice  her 
own  smile  would  melt  her.  It 's  not  like  anybodv 
else's  smile.  I  do  n't  know  that  it 's  a  smile  at 

190 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


It 's  something  like  a  spirit  that  passes  over  her  face 
and  makes  it  look  unearthly." 

"  You  imagine  it,"  she  declared,  and  he  changed 
the  subject  without  changing  his  mind. 

Usually  people  see  only  what  they  are  looking  for, 
and  of  all  who  were  there  Lady  Cheam  was  the  only 
one  who  perceived  Tyson's  entanglement  with  her 
cousin.  She  did  what  she  could  to  keep  him  away 
from  the  fate  of  the  other  adventurers — to  show  him 
the  penalties  of  the  over-bold — but  he  laughed  at  her, 
and,  not  without  premonitions  of  what  his  folly  would 
end  in,  indulged  himself  in  the  fascinations  of  Mary's 
society  as  often  as  opportunity  offered. 

There  were  many  opportunities.  She  was  as  free 
from  the  fetters  of  conventional  proprieties  as  Nona 
herself,  and  scouted  chaperonage  as  one  of  the  super 
fluities  and  superstitions  of  the  dark  and  unreasoning 
ages.  The  downs  were  always  calling,  and  while  the 
others  played  golf,  or  went  to  Cowes,  or  drove  along 
the  undercliff,  or  stayed  at  home,  he  and  she  buoy 
antly  and  untiringly  strode  along  the  cushioned  turf 
of  those  delightful  uplands,  over  which  the  clouds 
marched  like  gathering  hosts  and  trailed  in  purple 
shadows  on  the  sea.  On  and  on  they  went,  in  high 
spirits,  and  with  exhaustless  strength  and  rebounding 
feet.  Fatigue  did  not  touch  them,  and  with  the  wind 
from  the  ends  of  the  world,  and  the  fragrant  elixir 
of  sea  and  land  tingling  in  their  veins  and  nostrils, 
their  corporeity  fell  from  them  like  a  cumbrous  gar 
ment  and  they  seemed  to  float  in  the  diminished  space 
between  earth  and  heaven.  The  sea  was  far  below 
them,  now  pale,  now  vivid,  apparently  more  distant 
than  the  sky  itself,  and  yet  from  their  height  it  seemed 
that  one  stride  more  would  plunge  them  into  the 

191 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


middle  of  it.  So  close  upon  them  pressed  the  sky 
that  in  the  illusion  an  upraised  arm  could  reach  it. 
The  hours  flew  faster  than  their  feet,  and  they  watched 
the  sun  go  down  and  saw  night  steal  in  like  the  visi 
ble  presence  of  an  eternal  mother,  and  gently  draw 
the  shadows  round  the  land  before  she  left  it  to  slum 
ber  under  the  vigil  of  the  stars. 

After  the  exhilaration  of  these  walks  Tyson  drooped 
and  groped  in  disquieting  thought.  He  reproached 
himself  with  fatuity  and  presumptuousness,  and  yet 
he  was  confident  that,  impossible  as  his  aspiration 
might  be  in  the  ultimate,  he  had  at  least  progressed 
in  Mary's  friendship  :  he  would  cling  to  that  and  re 
joice  in  it,  if  he  could  have  no  more. 

Nor  was  he  mistaken  in  his  faith  in  her.  She  was 
not  a  flirt,  and  may  have  been  more  dangerous  on 
that  account,  for  her  conduct  was  animated  by  a  per 
fect  sanity  which  she  regarded  as  but  her  own  part 
of  a  common  possession.  He  had  not  poured  out  his 
story  to  her  in  a  flood  as  he  had  done  to  Julian,  but 
bit  by  bit  she  had  learned  it  from  him,  receiving  it 
with  a  sympathy  which  added  to  the  ordinary  charm 
of  her  face  an  exquisite  pensiveness  and  tenderness. 
It  was  akin  to  the  spell  Othello  cast  on  Desdemona 
— akin  to  the  surrender  of  universal  motherhood  in 
the  impulse  of  pity. 

"  She  loved  me  for  the  dangers  I  had  passed, 
And  I  loved  her  that  she  did  pity  them. 
This  only  is  the  witchcraft  I  have  used." 

The  resemblance  was  there,  but  it  was  not  identi 
cal,  nor  at  the  time  overwhelming. 

The  state  of  Mary's  heart  at  this  period  need  not 
be  hidden.  She  herself  had  not  approached  any  crisis 

192 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


that  called  for  resolute  decision  or  action.  She  pitied 
the  sorrows  of  his  youth,  and  admired  the  way  he  had 
made  use  of  his  later  opportunities.  She  liked  him 
for  his  simplicity,  his  generosity  and  his  delicacy, 
and  there  was  fellowship  between  them  in  the  de 
lights  they  found  in  the  solitudes  of  hills  and  skies. 
She  sometimes  remembered  the  incident  of  the  rose, 
but  as  the  indiscretion  had  not  been  repeated  she 
condoned  it.  She  was  willing  he  should  be  her  friend, 
and  he  appeared  to  accept  whatever  advantages  there 
were  in  that  position  with  as  clear  an  understanding 
as  she  desired  that  it  involved  not  only  privileges 
but  limitations. 

She  was  not  the  kind  of  girl  who  distracts  herself 
with  prematrimonial  speculations,  turning  search 
lights  into  the  future  from  the  flash  of  a  man's  eye, 
and  secretly  dramatizing  him  as  a  husband  from  his 
smile.  She  was  the  essence  of  sincerity,  and  would 
have  flouted  any  insinuation  that  platonism  like  social 
ism  may  theorize  better  than  it  realizes,  and  that 
natural  philosophy  is  not  on  the  side  of  those  who  say 
because  the  sky  is  blue  on  a  calm  and  sunny  day, 
and  the  earth  unsmoking  and  uncracked,  there  are 
no  lightnings  in  one  and  no  fires  in  the  other.  There 
were  combustibles  in  her  nature,  but  they  were  so 
safely  stowed  away  that  they  needed  no  danger 
sign. 

It  remained  a  mystery  to  Tyson  why  Julian  was 
never  mentioned  by  Mary  or  the  other  guests ;  Lady 
Cheam  was  the  only  one'who  ever  spoke  of  him,  and 
when,  forgetting  for  the  moment  the  latter's  signifi 
cant  hint,  he  said  to  Mary,  "  Julian  will  be  coming 
home  soon,"  he  observed  a  portentous  hardening  of 
her  face. 

M  193 


How  Tyson  Came  H'ome 


"Indeed!" 

It  was  in  a  voice  of  incuriousness  and  indifference 
that  she  spoke. 

"  Yes,  and  I  '11  be  mighty  glad  to  see  him.  I  feel 
very  grateful  to  Julian. 

"Indeed!" 

"  I  like  him.  Just  think  of  it !  But  for  him  I 
should  n't  be  here  now — should  n't  know  Culvercombe 
— should  n't  know  you — should  n't  be  sitting  in  the 
Palace  Gardens." 

This  was  at  Winsbury,  where  the  bishop  had  in 
vited  him  to  spend  the  day. 

The  glossy  lawn,  with  a  sun-dial  in  the  middle  of 
it,  spread  before  them,  and  the  shadows  of  yews, 
cedars,  firs  and  beeches  lengthened  and  darkened  in 
the  afternoon  light.  Behind  them  was  the  Palace — 
a  many-windowed,  many-gabled,  red-roofed,  ivied 
house  of  greystone.  They  had  just  come  out  of  its 
noiseless  and  dignified  but  frugal  interior,  where  the 
hall  clock  solemnly  reverberated  through  dim  wain 
scoted  galleries  and  bare  lofty  rooms,  in  which  hung 
the  portraits  of  many  generations  of  prelates.  Nearly 
square,  and  bounded  on  both  sides  by  high  mossy 
walls  flowered  with  the  pink  blossoms  of  valerian, 
the  lawn  ended  close  to  the  apse  of  the  cathedral, 
and  Tyson's  spirit  rather  then  Ms  eyes  dwelt  in  ve 
neration  on  the  grandeur  of  the  old  church,  in  which 
age  after  age  had  bowed  its  head  and  struggled  by 
devotion  and  renunciation  to  pluck  the  thorn  from 
the  flesh,  and  silence  the  calling  of  the  world.  Beyond 
the  wall  sloped  the  red-tiled,  sagging  roofs  of  the 
ancient  but  well  preserved  houses  which  with  prim 
gardens  and  creeper-clad  fronts  surrounded  the  close. 
The  measured  beat  of  the  hall  clock,  the  rooks  wheel- 

194 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


ing  and  croaking  around  the  spires,  buttresses  and 
pinnacles,  and  the  pigeons  rustling  and  cooing  at 
Mary's  feet,  struck  on  the  quiet  without  lessening 
it. 

"  "We  do  not  speak  of  Julian,"  said  Mary  crisply. 

"  Oh,  I  know  he  has  been  foolish — he  told  me  that," 
Tyson  ventured. 

"  Foolish !  Foolish  ! "  she  repeated,  with  a  flash  of 
scorn.  "  Is  that  your  word  for  it  ?  Is  that  how  you 
regard  it?" 

"  I  'm  sorry  for  him — I  guess  he 's  sorry.  Do  n't 
be  too  hard  on  him.  He 's  a  good  fellow.  He 's  not 
the  only  one." 

The  look  she  shot  at  him  with  narrowing  eyes 
pierced  him — it  was  full  of  disfavour  and  implaca 
bility. 

"  It 's  all  over  now,  anyway,"  he  said,  very  quietly. 
"  There  are  few  lives  in  which  there  are  no  mistakes, 
and  there  are  no  mistakes  that  ought  not  to  be  for 
given." 

"  There  are  conditions  of  forgiveness — repentance, 
renunciation,  restitution,  reparation,"  she  replied,  in 
the  same  impinging  voice. 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  but  give  him  a  chance.  Julian's 
heart  is  all  right." 

"  Has  he  ever  spoken  of  sorrow  to  you — of  remorse 
or  contrition  ? " 

Tyson  considered  the  answer,  but  floundered  when 
he  gave  it. 

"  Men  do  not  take  such  things  as  seriously  as  women 
do." 

Her  voice  seemed  to  spring  at  him.  "  You  believe 
that,  and  approve  of  it  ? " 

"  Well,  no,  not  quite.    I  guess  I  want  to  be  on  the 
195 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

side  of  the  angels,"  he  pleaded,  with  a  discouraged 
smile ;  "  but  as  a  man  of  the  world  I  want  to  be  fair, 
that 'sail." 

"  Without  turning  your  back  on  the  devil  ? " 

"  Without  turning  my  back  on  a  friend." 

For  a  moment  both  of  them  smiled  at  this  unin 
tentional  ambiguity. 

"  You  '11  find  it  very  difficult,"  she  said,  and  then, 
"  Julian  himself  told  you  all  ? " 

"  Julian  told  me  that  he  had  been  foolish." 

"  I  see.     That 's  his  word  for  it." 

"  Well,  is  n't  that  enough  ?  Lady  Cheam  says  he 
was  n't  to  blame." 

Mary's  eyes  now  rounded  with  amazement. 

"  Lady  Cheam  said  that !  And  all  that  you  know 
is  what  he  told  you  and  she  told  you !  Has  nobody 
else  spoken  to  you  ?  " 

«  Nobody." 

They  were  sitting  on  a  rustic  bench  under  a  gnarled 
beech  which  made  a  dark  reef  of  shade  across  the 
vivid,  close-cropped  greensward. 

"  Then  I  must  speak,  and  I  am  afraid  it  will  spoil 
your  afternoon.  I  do  n't  like  to  talk  this  way,  but  I 
think  too  much  of  you  to  believe  that  your  opinion 
of  Julian  will  bear  the  truth  about  him  without 
changing.  You  must  know  the  truth.  He  is  despi 
cable — treacherous — dishonourable.  Do  not  trust 
him — avoid  him!" 

Each  word  came  slowly  and  unsparingly. 

"  Is  n't  there  some  mistake  ?  Won't  you  explain  ? " 
he  begged,  in  a  low  voice.  "  Remember — repentance 
— reparation.  It 's  never  too  late,  you  know." 

His  faith  in  his  friend  was  not  to  be  shaken  easily 
— nobody  but  Mary  could  have  unsettled  it  by  so  few 

196 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


words.  It  was  not  overthrown  yet,  and  he  still  clung 
to  possibilities  and  explanations. 

She  shook  her  head,  and  he  saw  in  her  face  the 
luminousness  which  came  in  her  softer  moods. 

"  What  a  good  man  you  are  !  "  she  exclaimed,  un 
consciously  brushing  her  sleeve  against  him  and  al 
most  pressing  his  arm,  as  they  crossed  the  lawn  to 
meet  the  bishop  coming  through  a  postern  gate 
opposite  to  them.  "I  am  so  sorry  I  have  had  to  do 
this." 

Tyson  looked  at  her  gratefully — she  had  never  said 
so  much  as  that  before — never  looked  so  irresistible 
to  him — but  he  was  perplexed  and  grieved,  and 
wished  now  more  than  ever  that  he  could  see  Julian 
again. 

That  afternoon  the  Kev.  Lancelot  Leigh,  of  the 
Boys'  Home  in  Wakeport,  was  coming  to  visit  his 
uncle  and  his  sister  at  the  Palace,  and  he  arrived  with 
superfluous  noise  and  energy  a  few  minutes  after 
Tyson's  departure.  When  he  had  wrung  the  bishop's 
hand  and  embraced  Mary  in  his  impetuous  boyish 
way,  he  sat  down  on  the  lawn  with  them  and  raven 
ously  devoted  himself  to  the  tea,  the  jam  and  the 
bread  and  butter  which  a  servant  brought. 

"  Queer  thing ! "  he  said.  "  I  met  a  chap  in  the 
station  who  said  he  had  just  come  from  the  Palace." 

"  Mr.  Tyson  ?  "  Mary  guessed. 

Lancelot  nodded.  "  Seems  to  be  a  good  sort  of  a 
fellow.  Who  is  he?" 

"  An  American ;  a  friend  of — Ju — Julia's.  He  is 
making  a  long  stay  at  Culvercombe.  How  does  it 
happen  that  you  know  him  ? " 

"Met  him  just  once  before,"  and  then  the  young 
man,  in  gasps  between  his  mouthfuls,  described  the 

197 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


episode  of  the  cook-shop  in  London  Road.  The 
bishop  smiled  approvingly,  and  Mary  laughed. 

"  That  is  quite  like  him,"  she  said. 

"  Then  you  know  him  well,  Mary  ?  You  talk  as  if 
you  did,"  her  brother  remarked. 

"  Yes,  we  are  great  friends.  We  have  had  long 
walks  together  on  the  downs." 

"  Is  he  one  of  the  very  rich  ones  ?  "We  see  lots  of 
them  passing  through  Wakeport.  They  are  all  rich 
— some  of  them  seem  to  have  only  two  things  on  their 
minds :  their  dollars  and  their  ancestors." 

"  Mr.  Tyson  is  not  at  all  like  that,"  said  Mary,  with 
a  touch  of  asperity;. 

"  No ;  I  did  n't  imagine  that  he  was ;  he  seemed 
quite  a  decent  sort.  But  what  I  mean  is,  is  he  very 
rich?" 

"  What  a  strange  question !  Why  do  you  ask 
it?" 

"  I  was  considering ;  that  was  all." 

Lancelot  glanced  across  the  lawn  and  pursed  his 
mouth. 

"  A  curious  thing,"  he  said  by-and-by.  "  You 
know  that  idea  of  mine  of  floating  homes  for  the 
waifs  ?  One  of  them  has  been  provided  for  us  by 
an  unknown  donor  who  had  evidently  looked  into 
the  idea  from  every  point  of  view,  and  liked  it — he 
has  provided  everything  complete,  from  truck  to 
keelson ! " 

He  waited  for  the  effect  on  the  listeners  before  he 
went  on.  "  The  money  is  given  with  only  two  con 
ditions  :  one  is  that  his  anonymity  is  to  be  respected 
and  guarded  with  the  greatest  care — that 's  easy,  for 
the  whole  thing  is  done  through  his  solicitors." 

"  Splendid ! "  cried  Mary. 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"The  noblest  kind  of  charity — the  charity  that 
glorifies  God  and  not  itself.  Such  a  gift  is  twice  a 
gift,"  said  the  bishop. 

"But  haven't  you  some  idea  of  his  identity?" 
Mary  urged.  "Can't  you  think  of  somebody  you 
talked  to  or  wrote  to  about  it,  who  took  an  interest 
in  your  plan  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  've  talked  to  everybody  about  it,  written  to 
everybody,  and  bored  everybody,  and  could  n't  in 
terest  anybody.  They  smiled,  nodded  and  thought 
me  a  visionary — a  nuisance,  probably — all,  all  ex 
cept  the  man  in  the  cook-shop.  He  listened  to 
every  word.  Could  it  be  he  ?  That  is  why  I  asked 
you  that  question.  Could  it  be  he — your  friend,  this 
Mr.  Tyson  ? " 

Mary's  face  glowed  with  radiant  surmise.  "  It 
would  be  quite  like  him,"  she  said,  after  a  pause. 
"  And  under  the  conditions  we  can  never  even  thank 
him — we  can  never  even  let  him  know  that  we 
know  I " 

"  There  are  more  ways  of  giving  thanks  than  by 
words,"  murmured  the  bishop,  mildly  didactic  as  he 
reopened  his  book.  "  Of  course  we  do  not  know  yet ; 
we  can  only  infer.  But  I  should  not  be  surprised  if 
it  proved  to  be  Mr.  Tyson." 

"  I  am  sure  it  was,"  Mary  declared,  with  feminine 
precipitancy  and  confidence  in  intuition. 

Lancelot  had  left  them,  and  with  his  black  serge 
jacket  thrown  open,  his  hands  deep  in  his  trouser 
pockets,  and  his  wide-brimmed  hat  tilted  on  his 
crown,  was  cogitating  and  exercising  himself  with 
new  knots  which  appeared  in  the  strand  of  circum 
stances.  He  glanced  appreciatively  at  Mary,  as  she 
left  the  bishop  reading  and  crossed  the  lawn  towards 

199 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


him.  Her  dress  was  of  creamy  chiffon  and  lace,  all 
the  whiter  for  a  few  rosettes,  bows  and  edges  of 
black  satin  which  touched  it  here  and  there,  without 
other  colour.  Frail  as  her  figure  was,  it  had  grace 
as  well  as  lightness,  and  in  the  excitement  of  the 
moment  a  delicate  pink  swept  over  the  usual  pale 
ness  of  her  face,  which,  with  dilated,  sparkling  eyes, 
was  sheltered  under  the  nimbus  of  the  furled  gossa 
mer  and  the  yellow  roses  in  her  garden  hat. 

"  "What  does  it  mean,  Mary  ? "  he  puzzled  her  by 
asking.  "  I  told  you  there  are  two  conditions  in  the 
gift.  I  mentioned  one.  You  will  be  still  more  sur 
prised  when  you  hear  the  other,  which,  by  the  way, 
I  thought  uncle  need  not  know  of  just  yet." 

"Go  on!"  she  cried.  "What  is  it?  Why  are 
you  so  serious  ? " 

The  gravity  of  his  manner  tried  her  patience,  but 
he  looked  at  her  unflinchingly. 

"  The  other  condition  is  that  the  ship  is  to  be 
called  the  Mary  Leigh"  he  announced,  with  theat 
rical  distinctness  and  significance. 

The  colour  in  her  face  heightened  and  coursed 
like  an  after-glow  from  her  cheeks  to  her  ears  and 
throat,  and  she  deliberated  before  she  said  uncon- 
vincingly, 

"  A  coincidence,  perhaps.  Mine  is  not  an  unusual 
name." 

"It  seems  queer  to  me,"  he  replied,  with  some 
severity  added  to  his  seriousness. 

He  knitted  his  brow  in  some  embarrassment  be 
fore  he  directly  challenged  her  :  "  Look  here,  Mary, 
I  hope  you  have  n't  been  making  a  fool  of  your- 
self!*' 

This  was  unendurable,  and  she  appeared  to  add 

200 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


inches  to  her  stature  as  she  withdrew  a  few  spaces 
and  then  wheeled  away  from  him  in  her  wrath. 

"How  dare  you,  Lancelot!  I've  no  desire  to 
imitate  you." 

Heaven  vanished  from  her  eye,  and  she  turned  her 
back  on  him  and  loftily  retired  into  the  house. 


201 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XVI I L    A  Letter  from  Nona. 


i 


YSON  was  often  in  London  in  those  days, 
both  for  pleasure  and  business.  He  gave 
breakfasts  and  dinners  at  the  new  hotel 
in  Pall  Mall,  and  spent  his  money  so  un 
grudgingly  that  he  was  singled  out  for 
illimitable  civility  by  attendants  of  all 
degrees.  When  he  appeared  in  the  restaurant  there 
was  sure  to  be  a  good  table  for  him,  and  the  ponti- 
ficial  being  in  the  frock  coat,  before  whom  the  head 
waiter  ana  the  waiters  assembled  and  passed  in  awe 
— the  great  one  of  the  place,  who  drifted  from  table 
to  table  with  academic  reserve  and  supervisory  dignity 
— made  him  the  object  of  particular  condescension 
and  welcome. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Tyson,  Ion  jour,  monsieur.  I  'ave  some- 
ting  nice  for  you  to-day,  ver'  nice,  eh  ?  " 

And  with  soothing,  inspiring  solicitude,  he  would 
with  a  fore-finger  on  his  temple  and  his  gaze  on  the 
ceiling  in  supermundane  abstraction,  prescribe  culi 
nary  master-pieces  of  transcendental  flavours,  and 
wines  as  mellow  as  summer. 

Less  favoured  customers  might  order  as  they  chose, 
and  fare  according  to  their  means  and  intelligence, 

202 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


but  in  this  functionary  Tyson  found  a  friend  and 
counsellor  who  would  allow  him  to  have  nothing  but 
the  superfine  ;  and  as  a  great  artist  looks  for  appre 
ciation  in  the  face  of  a  fascinated  connoisseur  whose 
judgment  he  knows  to  be  sound,  so  was  Tyson's  face 
scanned  as  the  delicate  compounds  of  ambrosian  es 
sences  and  odours  were  placed  before  him. 

"  Is  it  not  ?  Did  I  tell  you  ?  A— a— a— ah  ! " 
Content  with  Tyson's  approbation,  this  necro 
mancer,  this  minister  of  epicurean  delights,  raised  his 
crustacean  eyes  to  heaven  and  heaved  his  fat  bosom 
with  an  audible  sigh  expressive  of  what  was  both  es 
oteric  and  beatific. 

The  restaurant  in  the  evening  is  like  a  great  crystal 
pavilion  flooded  with  tempered  light,  pink  roses,  and 
the  cool,  lace-like  verdure  of  delicate  ferns.  It  is 
aglow,  but  without  glare  ;  full  of  colour,  but  without 
gaudiness ;  splendid,  but  chastened.  So  cunning  is 
the  decorative  arrangement  that  no  vagary  of  costume 
impairs  the  surrounding  perfection,  and  projected 
against  it  complexions  are  clarified  and  the  unkind- 
nesses  of  nature  in  moulding  features  are  assauged  or 
reduced  to  the  invisible.  The  tables  with  their 
snowy  damask  and  creamy  lace,  iridescent  crystal  and 
polished  silver,  touch  the  fancy  as  fairy  islands,  and 
no  reasonable  being  could  be  surprised  if  from  the 
knolls  and  thickets  of  swelling  roses  and  maidenhair 
in  the  centre,  with  glowing  lamps  at  their  base,  a 
train  of  fairies  happened  to  trip  forth  and  disport 
themselves  to  the  strains  of  the  hidden  music. 

Tyson  liked  it  all,  but  for  his  guests  more  than  for 
himself.  "When  they  were  engaged  among  them 
selves  the  pain  at  his  heart  struck  again,  and  through 
a  film  of  dark  he  once  more  saw  London  Road  in  the 

203 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


whirl  of  rain  and  the  ooze  of  mud,  and  the  figure  of 
Mrs.  Twiggs  creeping  down  the  hotel  steps.  His 
sigh  was  heard  above  the  hum  of  pleasures  that  were 
both  glutted  and  expectant,  and  at  first  his  guests 
merely  rallied  him  ;  but  when  they  found  his  abstrac 
tion  increasing  they  wondered  what  the  matter  was, 
and  hoped  to  themselves  that  it  did  not  portend  any 
gathering  clouds  on  those  ventures  of  his  to  whicn 
they  had  tied  themselves. 

One  night  Pewster  was  dining  with  some  flaunting 
women  and  red-faced  men  at  another  table,  and 
Tyson  saw  him  whisper  to  them,  prompting  them  to 
lau^h  noisily  and  turn  their  heads  in  his  direction. 

He  seemed  not  to  look  or  listen,  but  Pewster  raised 
his  voice  until  Tyson  could  hear  too  well  fragment 
ary  words  which  he  could  easily  piece  together — 
"  Nothing  but  a  little  slavey,  I  tell  you,"  and  sepa 
rated  by  a  louder  laugh,  the  comment  of  one  of  the 
women,  who  impaled  him  through  her  lorgnette, 
"  How  very,  very  funny !  The  Millionaire  and  the 
Maid-of-all-work !  Would  n't  that  be  a  catchy  head 
ing  for  an  article ! " 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  the  old  man  ?  Seems 
out  of  sorts.  I  hope  there 's  nothing  wrong  with  the 
mine,"  said  one  of  Tyson's  guests  to  another,  as  they 
departed  for  their  club  in  Piccadilly. 

"  He  does  seem  rather  queer  lately.  Perhaps  it 's 
love — or  liver.  Same  thing,  you  know.  Have  you 
asked  him  \ " 

"  Well — er — yes ;  but  he  was  quite  short  about  it. 
I  did  n't  like  his  way  at  all.  <  If  you  're  nervous  about 
it,  sell ' — that  was  all,  peevishly,  you  know." 

"  Deuced  good  dinner." 

(t  Ripping.  He  might  own  the  hotel  from  the  way 
204 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


they  do  for  him.  I  wonder  what  he  does  for  old 
Lamperti  in  return.  The  attentions  of  that  old  spider 
cost  something." 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  old  Lam  is  in  the  same  boat  with  the 
rest  of  us — the  golden  galleon,  you  know — Sheba." 

"  She 's  carrying  a  good  many  passengers.  Let  me 
see ;  Komer  's  in  it,  and  Lady  Romer,  Gleg,  Sir  Wal 
ter,  old  Mercia  (I  guess  he  got  his  shares  for  noth 
ing),  Hilda  Horshem,  Lady  Cheam,  Bennie  West- 
wood,  Algy  Sutton,  Percy  Tuke,  Gertie  Fritzroy 
and — " 

"  You  and  I.  Let 's  think  of  ourselves  first  of  all. 
If  anything  happens — " 

"  Dinners  will  not  cut  any  ice,  as  they  say  out 
there." 

"  Things  have  happened  before  now." 

"  And  will  again.  Let  us  be  on  the  side  of  Pru 
dence.  She 's  an  awfully  slow  old  girl,  and  not  a  bit 
modern.  In  religion  she 's  a  Methodist,  in  appetite 
a  vegetarian,  in  dress  a  frump,  and  in  imagination  a 
suburbanite  ;  but  she 's  always  got  a  balance  at  the 
Bank — small  but  tangible." 

"  She 's  not  exhilarating." 

"  No,  but  she  soothes." 

"With  gruel." 

"That 's  better  than  water." 

"I  don't  think  so.  But  let's  be  serious.  Old 
Pewster  was  there  to-night.  Didn't  you  see  him 
with  that  newspaper  woman,  that  Mrs.  Mannington 
Freake  ?  Pewster  was  saying  something  about  Ty 
son.  I  '11  ask  him  what  he  knows  when  1  am  in  the 
city  to-morrow." 

"  I  thought  you  loathed  Pewster,  and  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  him." 

205 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Ah,  yes,  but  this  is  an  emergency." 

"  An  emergency !  Do  you  think  "it  has  come  to 
that  ?  " 

"  I  only  want  to  know  where  the  life-buoys  are, 
and  slip  one  on  in  time.  Golden  galleons,  my  boy, 
are  not  so  well  equipped  as  modern  ships,  which 
carry  lighter  cargoes." 

"  Well,  I  'd  like  to  know  what  Pewster  says.  It 
would  be  disgusting  if  anything  happened.  Perhaps 
these  big  dinners  are  ominous." 

And  when  Tyson  himself  left  the  hotel  the  gela 
tinous  Lamperti  bowed  him  out,  and  two  hall  por 
ters,  belaced  and  be-frogged  like  major-generals, 
sprang  aside  from  other  guests  to  show  him  with  many 
genuflexions  to  his  carriage. 

The  news  from  the  mine  was  not  altogether  good. 
Dougherty  and  Pewster,  now  working  in  a  common 
cause,  had  obtained  an  injunction  against  further 
operations  on  a  section  of  the  property  which  they 
had  not  hitherto  claimed.  It  was  not  the  original 
mine,  but  adjacent  land — the  land  which  Pewster 
had  conveyed  to  Julian,  and  Julian  back  to  him. 
The  "  bears "  "  hammered  the  stock,"  and  Tyson 
and  the  Senator  were  compelled  to  "  support "  it ; 
that  is  to  say,  they  had  to  show  their  confidence  in 
it  by  buying  more  of  it  as  it  was  offered  for  sale  by 
other  holders.  Their  policy  was  agreed  on  and  dis 
cussed  by  frequent  cables,  but  not  once  had  the  Sena 
tor  written  to  Tyson,  excepting  brief  business  letters 
and  telegrams,  since  his  departure  from  New  York. 
Nona  also  had  been  silent,  for  she  as  well  as  her 
father  resented  the  indifference  to  them  which  they 
inferred  from  the  prolongation  of  Jim's  stay  in  Eng 
land  and  the  uncertainty  of  his  return.  When  he 

206 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


left,  it  was  supposed  that  he  would  not  be  gone  more 
than  a  month  or  two,  and  now  it  was  October,  and 
still  he  made  no  promise  of  coming  back. 

The  Senator  held  his  peace,  but  brooded  on  the 
grievance  he  found  not  only  in  Tyson's  callousness 
to  their  personal  claims  on  him,  but  also  in  the  indif 
ference  he  showed  to  business. 

They  were  in  "Washington  now,  and  the  old  man 
watched  his  daughter  with  an  anxious  eye  to  see  how 
far  their  mutual  disappointment  affected  her.  He 
had  seldom  considered  the  potentialities  of  the  rela 
tions  between  her  and  Tyson,  nor  had  his  thoughts 
ever  debated  the  elusive  distinction  between  what  is 
friendly  or  brotherly  and  what  is  more  comprehen 
sive  than  either,  in  a  man's  attitude  towards  a  woman. 
His  sex  deprived  him  of  those  excursions  into  the 
future  which  a  woman  so  gaily  ventures  on,  taking 
Time  by  the  forelock  and  Destiny  by  a  leading-string 
whenever  she  sees  an  eligible  pair,  and  mating  them, 
or  otherwise  disposing  of  them,  with  omnipotent  ima 
gination.  But  he  had  derived  comfort  from  their 
attachment,  and  in  a  vague  way  he  desired  and  was 
prepared  to  approve  a  closer  bond  between  them, 
whenever  they  were  ready  for  it,  as  it  seemed  natu 
ral  they  some  day  should  be. 

Nona  in  Washington  was  more  sedate  than  she 
had  been  at  Sheba,  but  he  accounted  for  that  as  a 
result  of  the  compulsion  of  new  surroundings  and 
new  restraints,  and  the  educational  influence  of  Mrs. 
Dennison.  Any  resentment  she  had  was  as  tacit  as 
his  own,  and  found  utterance  only  in  an  occasional 
sigh. 

"  Sav,  Dad,  I  'm  going  to  write  to  him  and  give 
him  all  the  news,"  she  announced  one  day.  "  How 

207 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


shall  I  do  it  ?  Just  au  naturel,  or  with  a  few  of  Mrs. 
Dennison's  flourishes  ? " 

Seating  herself  at  a  dainty  inlaid  desk  pushed  into 
the  bay  window  of  her  pink  boudoir  in  the  house 
they  had  taken  facing  Lafayette  Square,  she  rested 
her  round,  soft,  peach-like  cheek  in  her  palm  in  a 
quandary.  The  grace  and  strength  of  her  figure 
were  visible  through  her  flowing  gown,  and  the  light 
streaming  from  the  window  brought  out  the  glory  of 
her  golden-russet  hair,  and  tipped  the  lashes  which 
fringed  the  lustrous  deeps  of  her  brown  eyes. 

The  letter  reached  Tyson  when  he  was  breakfast 
ing  at  a  table  which  he  always  chose  because  from  it 
he  could  look  up  and  down  the  river  from  "Westmin 
ster  to  St.  Paul's,  and  feel  the  past  of  the  ancient  city 
upheaving  from  the  modern  surface  and  silently  as 
serting  itself  as  an  inalienable  part  of  the  present. 
He  could  not  mistake  the  heavy,  vertical  hand  in  the 
address,  and  though  he  opened  other  letters  leisurely 
he  seized  on  this  and  tore  it  from  the  envelope.  It 
was  au  naturel — written  as  she  talked,  as  if  with  her 
voice  instead  of  with  a  pen. 

"  Do  you  remember  that  story,  Jim — the  story 
about  the  lady  and  the  tiger?  I'm  it.  There  are 
two  dens  with  doors  that  you  can't  see  through. 
Behind  one  of  them  is  a  lady,  behind  the  other  a 
cow-girl  or  a  Tom-boy.  Which  are  you  going  to 
choose?  One  you  know,  the  other  you  don't — 
one's  an  old  friend,  the  other  a  stranger.  I  guess  it 
will  be  the  old  friend,  and  here  she  is,  just  as  you  left 
her,  just  plain  Mary  Casey!  That's  what  I  like  to 
be  myself,  and  I  believe  it  is  what  I  was  meant  to  be 
for  ever  and  ever. 

"  I  hate  frills  ;  they're  all  Toby  frills  to  me,  and 

208 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


look  ridiculous.  Mrs.  Dennison  makes  me  tired ;  she 
makes  me  feel  like  a  performing  animal  — '  Stand 
up.'  '  Sit  down.'  i  Bow  to  the  gentleman.'  *  Now 
dance.'  She  calls  it  deportment,  and  I  do  it  to  please 
father,  because  he  thinks  it  necessary  now  that  we  are 
in  "Washington  and  see  so  many  people.  And  I  can 
do  it  pretty  well  when  I  want  to.  The  principal 
thing  is  not  to  laugh  too  much,  and  take  care  what 
you  say  to  people  who  are  not  used  to  you.  You 
can't  laugh  good  and  loud,  but  you  can  titter  all 
you've  a  mind  to.  There  are  some  things  you 
must  n't  talk  about  at  all.  Of  course  I  did  n't  know 
that,  and  I  guess  I  shocked  them  some  at  first ;  but 
they  had  to  get  over  it.  You've  got  to  be  careful 
how  you  sit  down,  too,  and  how  you  walk  across  a 
room  and  shake  hands.  When  some  of  the  dudes 
put  out  their  fingers  to  me  I  feel  like  biting  them." 

There  was  a  blot  at  this  point,  followed  by  an  ex 
pletive  shorn  of  its  final  letter — "  Dam ! " 

"  I  know  a  heap  more  now  than  I  ever  did  at  Sheba, 
but  you  would  n't  believe  it  if  you  saw  me.  You  Ve 
got  to  be  as  deep  as  the  sea  when  you  're  in  society, 
i  ou  can't  be  yourself  a  little  bit,  or  that 's  what  it 
amounts  to. 

"  The  President  is  different.  He  can  do  anything. 
He 's  as  natural  as  can  be.  We  dined  at  the  White 
House  the  other  night,  and  he  left  all  the  others  after 
dinner  to  talk  to  me.  Seemed  to  cotton  to  me,  and 
we  got  along  like  two  old  chums.  I  could  be  myself 
with  him  ;  he  does  n't  put  on  airs  at  all.  We  talked 
about  the  West — mines,  elk,  cattle-raising,  hunting 
and  Indians.  He  knows  the  West  all  right — looks 
like  a  bronco-buster  himself — remembered  Chidsey 
and  all  of  us,  and  asked  about  you.  Then  he  got  to 

N  209 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


laughing,  and  got  me  laughing  too — wished  he  'd  had 
me  with  the  Rough  Riders,  and  said  I  was  the  real 
thing.  You  should  have  seen  the  others  looking  at 
m  I  1  did  n't  know  I  was  so  fanny,  did  you  ?  Mrs. 

Dennison  said  she  was  so  relieved  -//hen  it  was  ail 
over,  and  that  the  diplomatic  set  was  quite  scanda 
lized.  I  don't  care  a  darn  for  the  diplomatic  set, 
anyhow,  and  Mrs.  Dennison's  an  old  flirt  herself. 

"  I  suppose  you  've  met  the  King  often,  but  what's 
an  old  Kjng  corn  pared  with  the  President  of  eighty 
million  free  and  united  people? 

"Have  you  seen  anything  of  that  Englishman? 
lie  never  showed  up  a^airi  after  he  went  East  with 
you.  but  we  heard  of  him  in  Washington.  Somebody 
j/ave  him  a  visitor's  card  to  the  Cosmopolitan  Clab, 
but  they  found  out  something  against  him  and  fired 
him  out  when  he  came  to  the  door  one  day.  I  do  n't 
know  what  you  could  see  in  him,  Jim.  I  had  my 
suspicions  about,  him  all  alonj/  he  never  seemed  to 
ring  true  to  me.  Put  Lordy !  How  he  buncoed 
you  -vou  always  were  so  simple! 

"Oh,  Jirn,  Washington  is  fine,  but  it  isn't  good 
enough  for  me.  '  f/i  ve  me  liberty,  or  give  me  death,' 
a:;  Patrick  Henry,  or  Henry  Patrick,  said,  or  was  it 
Thomas  .Jefferson  '{  Vou  carrt,  breathe  here,  it  all 
seems  so  stuffy-  -everything's  so  small  and  close.  I 
feel  somehow  as  if  I  were  in  a  ca^e.  J  miss  the  pines, 
the  freedom,  the  brush,  the  chapparal,  Apache,  Chid- 
scy,  the  long  rides,  the  patter  of  the  cotton  woods  in 
the  canon,  the  ///,*.'<//*,  the  pueblo,  even  the  prairie 
dogs — everything  that's  out  West.  The  'boundless 
universe'  is  ours  out  there:  it  looks  like  a  goblet  full 
of  wine  that  you  can  both  breathe  and  drink  ;  arid  I 
miss  you  as  you  used  to  be  before  old  C/lyrinc  caine 

210 


How   Tyson   L\unc 


and  spoiled  you — wo  both  miss  you,  father  does  and 
I  do ;  but  stay  away  as  long  as  you  've  a  mind  to, 
though  it  beats  mo  what  you  tiiul  in  an  old  country 
like  England.  Wo  made  her  sit  up  once,  and  father 
says  if  they  don't  take  care  we  '11  doit  again. 

"  P.  S.  My  picture  is  in  Harpers  ll";(v';. ,  and  I 
send  yo*  a  copy.  It's  mine,  but  it  isn't  me.  It's 
the  lady  in  the  other  den  that  you  wouldn't  choose. 
How 's  that  for  a  frock  ?  It's  imported." 

The  postscript  was  in  her  usual  hand,  but  all  the 
rest  of  the  letter  was  written  in  a  studied  imitation 
of  a  laborious  schoolgirl's  writing. 

There  was  another  letter  in  that  morning's  post — 
a  letter  from  W  insbury,  in  which  Mary,  writing  for 
tho  bishop,  invited  him  a^aiu  to  the  Talace.  Thev 
would  be  very  i^lad  to  set'  him.  and  her  brother  was 
ea^vr  for  an  opportunity  to  renew  the  acquaintance 
which  she  found  they  had  begun  under  yery  inter 
esting  circumstances  at  Wakeport.  A  third  letter 
was  from  Julian,  announcing  Ins  return  to  Kngland 
by  the  4i  St.  Louis/'  due  the  following  day,  and  beg 
ging  Tyson  to  meet  him  at  Southampton  Oocks. 


211 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter     XIX.       In     which     Julian 
Returns 


i 


i  YSO1ST  was  there  when  the  gangway  was 
swung  aboard. 

"  Am   I  forgiven  ?    Is  it  forgotten  ? " 
Julian  asked  eagerly.    "  Tell  me,  dear  boy ; 
they  have  n't  turned  you  against  me,  have 
they  ?    London  is  not  any  more  charitable 
than  the  rest  of  the  world,  but  she  easily  forgets 
little  things,  little  scandals  as  well  as  little  people." 
Tyson  was  grave. 

"Let's  be  frank,  Julian,"  he  said.  "What's  it 
all  about?" 

"  Then  you  have  heard  something !  Did  n't  Julia 
explain  ? " 

They  had  gone  from  the  docks  to  an  inn  in  the 
town,  and  were  seated  before  an  open  fire  in  a  private 
sitting-room. 

"  Lady  Cheam  makes  light  of  it,  and  won't  hear  a 
word  against  you,  but — out  with  it,  Julian ;  you  can 
trust  me." 

"Ah,  but  there  are  others — what  do  they  say? 
That  cousin  of  mine  ?  I  hear  that  you  and  she  are 
very  friendly.  You  ought  not  to  go  to  her  for  my 
character." 

212 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Come,  Julian,  do  n't  talk  like  that !  I  've  asked 
no  questions.  I  've  waited  for  you  to  explain." 

Julian  gazed  into  the  fire,  and  watched  it  through 
the  wreathing  smoke  of  his  cigar. 

"  I  remember  how  you  comforted  me  that  night  in 
your  den  at  Sheba,"  he  murmured.  "  Do  you  know 
that  serious  people  like  you  are  seldom  epigram 
matic? — their  feelings  are  so  deep  that  they  sub 
merge  any  wit  they  have.  '  Though  the  world  began 
with  one  woman  it  need  not  end  with  one.'  Don't 
you  remember  ?  That  was  very  clever,  and  very  en 
couraging.  You  spoke  like  a  man  of  the  world." 

He  rose  and  left  the  room,  and  while  he  was  in  the 
adjoining  chamber  he  quickly  bared  his  arm  and 
pricked  it  with  a  small  tube  into  which  he  had  poured 
part  of  the  contents  of  a  small  bottle.  When  he 
returned  he  compassed  Tyson  in  one  of  his  bewitch 
ing  smiles,  and  again  sat  down  in  a  revery  before 
the  fire.  His  pallor  increased  the  beauty  of  his 
smooth  young  face,  the  beauty  that  was  formed  of  a 
straight  nose  and  delicate  nostrils ;  eloquent  eyes 
overhung  by  graceful  brows  and  lashes ;  a  forehead 
low  but  broad ;  rippled  hair,  and  a  mouth  with  the 
warmth  and  arched  upper  lip  of  refined  sensuousness. 

He  was  slow  in  resuming  the  conversation,  and 
Tyson  watched  him  curiously,  conscious  of  a  change 
in  him,  but  unable  to  define  it.  His  voice  dragged, 
and  his  eyes  became  introspective. 

"  Neither  priest  nor  man  can  stay  the  long  arm  of 
Heredity.  Do  you  remember  that  portrait  in  the 
drawing-room  at  Culvercombe — the  little  lady  in  the 
farthingale,  who  has  that  fetching  smile  ?  They 
say  I  resemble  her.  Until  she  came  into  the  family 
through  marriage  the  Langdales  were  moral,  God- 

213 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


fearing,  dull.  She  was  a  Fitzneal,  and  the  Langdales 
have  been  Fitzneals  ever  since — devils,  though  some 
of  them  wear  the  masks  of  angels. 

"  Tyson,"  he  cried  with  a  sudden  change  of  man 
ner  and  a  flush  of  spasmodic  excitement,  "  you  are 
deceived  in  me !  What  you  have  heard  is  true.  I 
am  a  devil.  You  remember  that  day  I  rode  over 
with  Miss  Plant  from  Sheba  to  Fort  Navajo  ?  Do 
you  remember  when  we  got  back  how  used  up  I 
was  \  Nobody  knew  it,  but  while  I  was  alone  in  the 
old  pueblo  I  saw  what  I  thought  was  a  ghost.  It 
was  Ethel  Dunmail." 

And  then  in  a  voice  of  penitence  he  poured  out  a 
confession  of  baseness — of  treachery  to  the  best  of 
friends,  of  discovery  and  of  flight  to  New  York 
with  his  paramour,  of  money  "  taken  "  from  her  hus 
band  to  pay  their  way,  of  her  husband's  desperation 
and  death  in  the  field.  His  tears  flowed,  and  he 
drew  himself  nearer  Tyson,  with  hands  stretched  out 
in  supplication,  so  piteously  that  he  seemed  like  a 
child  pleading  for  pardon  and  consolation. 

Tyson  glanced  at  him  sharply,  and  then  turned  his 
eyes  to  the  glowing  coals  and  the  fluttering  inter 
mittent  jets  that  spurted  through  the  dark  lumps  as 
they  slowly  burst  into  flame  and  threw  flickering 
shadows  on  the  ceiling  and  the  dull  paper  of  the 
walls. 

"  Can  you  say  nothing,  Jim  ?  I  'm  sorry  for  it, 
but  regrets  only  embitter  the  present ;  they  cannot 
reclaim  the  past,  can  they  ?  " 

Already  He  spoke  with  lessening  grief,  for  with 
him  as  with  many  emotional  persons  confession  was 
a  cleansing  process,  followed  by  an  exhilarating  sense 
of  spiritual  and  moral  rejuvenation. 

214 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  I  do  n't  know  about  that,"  Tyson  said.  "  They 
may  save  the  future  at  all  events." 

A  long  silence  followed,  while  Tyson  walked  up 
and  down  the  room  and  stood  at  the  window  ab 
stractedly  looking  out  over  the  low,  sedgy  shores  of 
the  harbour  and  the  masts  and  funnels  of  the  many 
African,  American  and  West  Indian  liners  gathered 
in  the  docks.  The  twilight  was  creeping  up  the  nar 
row  gulf  of  Southampton  Water  that  bends  its  arm 
at  Cowes  and  leads  to  the  Solent  and  the  sea.  Julian's 
lids  were  heavy,  but  he  furtively  watched  him  pacing 
to  and  fro. 

"  Ah ! "  Julian  sighed,  with  a  forlorn  shake  of 
the  head,  as  if  bemoaning  an  irremediable  and  a 
universal  calamity.  "  Why  is  the  world  so  full  of 
women  !  "  That  was  an  old  lament  of  his. 

"She's  a  good  deal  older  than  you,  isn't  she? 
That 's  what  Lady  Cheam  told  me,"  Tyson  said, 
struggling  to  make  the  best  of  it  for  his  friend. 

"  So,  the  same  age.  If  you  can  condone  it,  Tyson, 
it  must  be  because  the  temptation  was  so  great.  She 
was  like  a  lily,  tall  and  fair  and  frail — a  girl  of  whom 
on  beholding  her  one  questioned,  'Art  thou  a 
woman,  or  art  thou  a  spirit  ? '  There  was  something 
ineffable  about  her,  something  so  etherealized  that 
when  you  touched  her  it  was  with  surprise  that  touch 
was  possible — that  she  was  real.  Her  husband  was 
no  dunce.  Though  a  soldier,  he  had  read.  Why 
had  not  the  old  stories  of  the  oldest  passions — 
the  tragedies  of  Lancelot  and  Guinevere,  of  Paolo 
and  Francesca  (he  must  have  known  them  well), 
opened  his  eyes  to  the  perils  he  was  exposing  us 
to?" 

"  Bah  1 "  growled  Tyson. 

215 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Why,  Jim,  you  're  not  going  back  on  me,  are 
you  ?  I  acknowledge  I  made  a  mistake,"  the  other 
protested,  with  an  infantile  appeal. 

"You  haven't  seen  her  since  that  day  at  the 
pueblo  ? "  Tyson  continued.  "  How  did  she  happen 
to  be  there  ? " 

"  Mrs.  Dennison  had  known  her  slightly  years  ago. 
She  invited  her  there.  Yes,  yes,  I  've  seen  her  since. 
She  came  to  New  York  while  I  was  there  after  you 
sailed." 

"  So  you  're  keeping  it  up,  are  you  ?  Now,  look 
here,  Julian ;  there 's  only  one  thing  to  do,  and 
you've  got  to  do  it.  You  must  marry  her — if  she'll 
have  you." 

"My  dear  boy,  how  unsophisticated  you  are! 
Marry  her  !  What  good  could  that  do  ? " 

"  You  must  marry  her,  and  do  what  you  can  to  re 
trieve  her  position  and  your  own.  If  you  want  me 
to  do  anything  for  you,  that 's  my  condition.  You 
must  marry  her,  and  live  abroad.  Why  do  n't  you 
settle  out  West  ?  I  could  find  something  for  you  to 
do  out  there — I  'd  give  you  a  fresh  start.  Nobody 
need  ever  hear  about  the  past/' 

"I  thought  you'd  look  at  it  like  a  man  of  the 
world ! "  cried  Julian  petulantly.  "  You  speak  like 
an  amateur,  Tyson — you  would  temporize  and  com 
promise,  instead  of  facing  reality  and  all  its  con 
ditions.  Marriage  is  impossible." 

"  You  owe  it  to  her." 

"  Do  you  think  that  if  he — Gerald — could  hear 
and  know — if  the  dead  could  speak — he  would  ap 
prove  of  that— that  it  would  console  him,  that  it 
would  pacify  him  and  reconcile  him,  to  know  that 
we  were  married  ?  Do  you  think  that  he  would  re- 

216 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


gard  the  legalization  of  what  has  been  illicit  as  re 
paration  ? " 

The  variations  in  Julian's  moods  and  voice  were 
perplexing.  He  swung  from  sophistry  and  defiance 
to  contrition  and  shame,  from  flippancy  and  arro 
gance  to  humility  and  self-surrender.  It  was  in  the 
more  earnest  voice  that  he  now  spoke,  as  he  looked 
Tyson  full  in  the  face  and  murmured, 

"Poor  Gerald!" 

Tyson  weighed  his  answer,  without  shaping  it  to 
his  own  satisfaction : 

"  I  think  that  being  a  good  man,  as  you  say  he 
was,  he  might — might — that  probably  he  would  think 
it  the  best  thing  for  you  to  do." 

Again  the  other  disdainfully  lifted  his  shoulders. 

"  S"o,  no !  "  he  cried  vehemently.  "  It  would  make 
him  hate  us  all  the  more.  I  must  think  of  him.  I 
find  out  too  late  that  it  is  him  I  love — not  her.  To 
him  I  owe — not  her.  You  want  me  to  be  merely 
respectable — I  see  your  intention — and  I  wonder  at 
you,  Tyson.  I  thought  you  knew  me ;  I  say  again  I 
thought  you  were  a  man  of  the  world." 

He  rose  from  his  chair  in  peevish  indignation,  and 
after  pacing  the  room  said,  more  calmly, 

"  Marriage  under  such  circumstances  is  from  every 
rational  point  of  view  an  aggravation  of  the  wrong ; 
it  does  no  good.  You  never  heard  of  happiness  com 
ing  from  compromise  and  coercion,  did  you  ? " 

Tyson  growled.  "I'm  not  thinking  of  happiness ; 
I  'm  not  thinking  of  him.  I  am  thinking  of  what 
you  owe  her.  What  is  to  become  of  her?  Is  she 
provided  for?  You  didn't  leave  her  stranded  in 
New  York,  did  you  ? 

There  was  that  in  his  tone  and  manner  as  he  spoke 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 

which  prompted  Julian  to  discretion  and  propitiation 
as  well  as  to  self-defence. 

"  She  is  provided  for — for  the  present.  I  've  seen 
to  that." 

"  She  knows  what  your  feelings  are  ? " 

"  I  intend  to  write." 

"  Then  you  did  n't  tell  her  that  you  did  not  wish 
to  see  her  again — that  you  would  not  see  her  again  ? " 

"It  was  too  painful.  Listen,  Jim,"  he  pleaded. 
"  I  have  a  persistent  dream — you  know  what  I  mean, 
a  dream  tnat  repeats  itself  over  and  over  again  with 
out  variation.  It  'sal ways  of  Gerald  dying  in  battle. 
I  see  him  vividly,  more  vividly  than  I  see  you  now, 
and  he  smiles  as  he  falls.  It  is  always  the  same, 
and  the  daylight  does  not  wash  the  vision  out.  It  is 
horrible — it  makes  me  hate  her.  What  a  curse  ima 
gination  can  be  !  As  with  everything  beautiful  and 
worth  having  in  the  world,  it  is  a  gift  of  pain  as  well 
as  pleasure ;  it  recoils  like  a  boomerang." 

His  lids  were  drooping  again,  arid  he  fell  into  a 
doze.  During  a  pause  he  had  slipped  unobserved 
into  the  adjoining  chamber,  and  repeated  the  dose  of 
of  morphia. 

In  the  dim  light  that  remained  in  the  darkening 
room  Tyson  watched  him  sleeping — watched  him 
for  a  while  as  one  watches  the  dead:  with  bated 
breath  and  suspended  judgment.  The  fair  face  was 
unwontedly  pale,  and  the  corners  of  the  eyes  were 
clasped  in  a  web  of  faint  lines  which  had  not  been 
there  before.  Why  was  he  so  sleepy  ?  He  could  not 
be  well — he  was  suffering  more  than  he  acknowl 
edged — all  his  perverseness  had  been  assumed.  But 
against  his  desire  Tyson  drifted  from  compassion  into 
suspicion  and  repugnance,  and  while  he  was  in  that 

218 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


state  of  mind  the  memory  of  what  Mary  Leigh  had 
said  to  him  at  Winsbury  came  back.  Still  he  did 
not  wholly  despair,  though  stronger  than  his  repug 
nance  was  a  sense  of  bereavement.  He  indeed  seemed 
to  be  watching  the  dead. 

"  Come,  Julian,"  he  said,  when  the  sleeper  awoke, 
"we  must  get  over  to  Culvercombe.  I've  wired 
Lady  Cheam.  There 's  a  boat  to  Cowes  at  seven." 

Though  it  was  then  only  five  o'clock  the  last  red 
embers  of  the  sun  had  faded  in  the  folds  of  grey 
cloud,  and  the  lamps  were  twinkling  on  the  ships 
moored  in  the  harbour  and  along  the  quays  and  piers 
of  the  ancient  city. 

"  I  suppose  there 's  a  house  full.  No,  not  to  Cul 
vercombe.  I  shall  not  be  welcome  there." 

"  This  is  an  off  week  with  us,"  Tyson  reassured 
him ;  "  there  are  no  visitors  there  now,  except  me. 
I  believe  Lady  Wringcliff  is  coming  down  later. 
Lady  Cheam  told  me  that  you  would  n't  mind  her — 
that  you  and  she  are  great 'friends — that  she  is  one 
of  the  few  who  understand  you.  I  have  n't  met  her 
yet." 

Julian  brightened  at  once.  "Only  Julia  and 
Lady  Wringcliff  and  you!  I'll  come.  But  we 
must  make  haste.  There  are  a  few  things  I  want  to 
get  in  the  town,  and  by  the  way,  can  you  lend  me  a 
little  money — a  few  pounds,  Tyson  ?  I  have  n't  got  a 
penny  in  the  world.  Langdale  is  supposed  to  make 
me  an  allowance,  but  he 's  behindhand." 

"  Certainly,"  Tyson  responded,  with  less  than  his 
old  warmth.  "  There 's  another  question  I  want  to 
ask  you,  Julian.  Why  did  n't  you  consult  me  before 
letting  Pewster  have  that  document?" 

"  Was  n't  it  all  right  ?  Was  it  a  mistake  \ "  Julian 
219 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


inquired,  with  genuine  surprise.  "  I  did  n't  see  any 
reason  for  asking  you  about  that.  You  told  me  over 
and  over  again  at  Sheba  that  it  was  worthless,  did  n't 
you  ?  So  when  the  beggar  came  to  me  in  New  York 
soon  after  you  sailed,  I  let  him  have  it  for  what  he 
offered — a  good  deal  more  than  I  paid  for  it." 

Tyson  bit  his  lip  and  remembered  Pewster's  taunts 
on  the  journey  to  Crewe.  "  Yes,  that  was  my  fault," 
he  admitted.  "  I  'm  not  much  of  a  business  man. 
I  do  n't  believe  it 's  worth  what  he  paid  you  for  it, 
but  I  wish  I  'd  seen  it.  He 's  using  it  in  another  law 
suit  against  us." 

"He  gave  me  ten  thousand  dollars  for  it,  and  I 
'  blew '  the  money  in,  as  you  say  over  there,  between 
the  Waldorf  and  Wall  Street.  It 's  wonderful  how 
easy  it  is  to  lose  money  between  those  two  places. 
Koulette  is  a  better  game  than  Wall  Street." 

While  waiting  for  the  boat  they  sauntered  "  Above 
Bar "  and  "  Below  Bar,"  as  the  divisions  of  South 
ampton's  main  street  are  called  from  the  mediaeval 
barrier  that  separates  them,  and  thrice  Julian  left 
Tyson  standing  outside  while  he  entered  three  chem 
ists'  shops,  triplicating  the  quantity  of  a  prescription 
he  carried  in  his  card-case. 

"  So  Laura  Wringcliff  is  coming  down,"  he  said, 
with  restored  spirits,  when  they  at  last  reached  the 
pier.  "  I  wonder  if  you  '11  like  her,  Jim.  She 's  the 
most  audacious  woman  in  England,  and  oh,  so  clever ! 
She  will  be  a  surprise  to  you.  No  doubt  some  of 
your  old-fashioned  notions  of  England  have  suffered 
a  little  already — you  remember  the  warning  I  read 
you  at  Sheba  ?  taura  will  shatter  some  more.  She 
is  in  advance  of  everything,  but  I  am  sure  she  '11 
amuse  you,  if  you  do  n't  take  her  too  seriously." 

220 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Tyson  did  not  warm  to  the  prospect  before  him, 
but  thought  with  some  pleasure  that  his  lease  of  Cul- 
vercombe  would  soon  be  terminable.  He  strode 
away  to  smoke  in  the  bow  of  the  boat,  while  Julian 
stretched  himself  on  a  sofa  in  the  cabin  and  hummed 
himself  into  a  doze  with  a  song : 

44  Old  priest,  who  mumble  worship  in  your  quire — 
Old  monk  and  nun,  ye  scorn  the  world's  desire, 
Yet  in  your  frosty  cells  ye  feel  the  fire  ! 
The  fire  of  heaven  is  not  the  flame  of  hell. 

"  The  fire  of  heaven  is  on  the  dusty  ways. 
The  wayside  blossoms  open  to  the  blaze. 
The  whole  wood-world  is  one  full  peal  of  praise. 
The  fire  of  heaven  is  not  the  flame  of  hell. 

"  The  fire  of  heaven  is  lord  of  all  things  good, 
And  starve  not  thou  this  fire  within  thy  blood, 
But  follow  Vivien  thro'  the  fiery  flood  ! 
The  fire  of  heaven  is  not  the  flame  of  hell." 


221 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XX.     Lady   Wringcliff   and 
Her  Maid 


i 


*HE  prodigal  returned,  to  be  hugged  after 
the  established  custom  with  the  open 
arms  that  are  spread  for  wastrels,  and 
Lady  Cheam's  adoration  spent  itself  in 
caresses  and  blandishments  not  of  touch 
alone,  but  of  an  enveloping  tenderness 
which  gleamed  from  her  eyes  and  enclosed  him  in 
an  atmosphere  of  worship.  Shallow  and  insincere 
in  other  things  as  she  was,  there  could  be  no  doubt 
about  her  affection  for  this  brother  who  from  child 
hood  up  had  been  an  endless  care  to  her,  draining 
her  resources  but  never  exhausting  her  patience ;  a 
source  of  anxiety,  but  a  transgressor  for  whom  she 
could  always  find  an  apology  and  a  pardon  if  not  an 
excuse.  Her  affection  for  him  was  beyond  reason 
and  beyond  equity,  beyond  all  justification,  and  it 
atoned  in  Tyson's  sentiment — more  in  his  sentiment 
than  in  his  judgment — for  her  frivolity  and  the  other 
flaws  in  her  character  to  which  his  eyes  were  slowly 
being  opened. 

So  content  were  they  in  each  other's  society  that 
with  various  excuses  Tyson  left  them  to  themselves, 

222 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


keeping  to  his  own  room  on  a  plea  of  letters  to  be 
written  and  business  to  be  done,  or  slipping  away 
without  warning  for  solitary  walks  on  the  low,  rock- 
strewn  beach  under  Dunnose  Head,  or  along  the 
downs.  But  when  he  was  alone  his  feet  often 
lagged,  and  though  on  such  occasions  he  forced  his 
pace  and  shook  himself  as  if  to  throw  off  a  burden, 
a  weight  still  lay  upon  him,  and  where  there  had 
been  the  fulness  of  joy  there  was  now  emptiness  and 
unrest.  He  knew  what  the  matter  was;  he  had 
known  it  for  a  long  time — the  desire  that  fears  itself, 
that  trembles  on  the  lips  and  shapes  them  for  speech, 
and  before  speech  can  come,  retreats,  lest  in  reach 
ing  for  more  it  should  lose  all. 

Lady  Wringcliff  came  down  by  a  late  train,  and 
he  did  not  see  her  until  the  morning  after  her  arrival. 
Then  he  found  her  on  the  lawn  with  Julian,  both  of 
them  laughing,  as,  sauntering  up  and  down,  she 
tapped  at  the  grass  and  lunged  at  stray  flowers  with 
her  parasol. 

She  was  straight  and  thin  and  tall,  with  high 
cheek  bones,  and  narrow  greenish  eyes  languishing 
under  heavy  lids.  Her  lips  were  full,  and  burnished 
with  a  crimson  salve,  and  her  blanched  complexion 
was  relieved  by  touches  of  rouge.  Her  mouth 
drooped  at  the  corners,  and  her  expression  was  in 
quisitive  and  supercilious.  Her  bolero  jacket  was  cut 
so  meagrely  in  the  back  that  it  made  but  a  narrow 
yoke  across  her  shoulders  ;  below  this  her  short  pet 
ticoat  revealed  with  every  step  the  shape  of  her  lithe 
limbs,  and  clung  to  her  lean  hips.  From  head  to 
foot,  from  the  curling  brim  of  her  hat  to  her  small, 
high-heeled  shoes,  she  had  chosen  for  colour  a  pale 
green  like  that  of  a  leaf -fed  insect,  and  this  with  the 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


sharp  outlines  of  her  almost  emaciated  figure  gave 
her  a  resemblance  to  a  grasshopper  as,  humanized  in 
caricature,  it  might  appear  in  a  rarisian  poster. 

Only  twenty-eight,  she  had  already  been  two  years 
divorced  from  Lord  Wringcliff  under  circumstances 
that  the  prurient  of  two  hemispheres  gloated  over 
and  cherished  like  a  droll  unexpurgated  book  for 
dull  moments.  Amply  provided  for  by  her  own  for 
tune,  she  had  chosen  to  remain  single,  while  the  Earl 
had  lost  no  time  in  taking  to  himself  as  a  second  wife 
a  girl  from  New  York  who  was  rich  and  of  a  family 
so  ancient  that  no  member  of  it  had  been  known  to 
appear  in  public  without  his  coat  for  at  least  four 
generations.  Unlike  Lady  Cheam,  Laura  was  not 
content  with  the  thrill  of  standing  on  the  brink  of  the 
precipice :  she  liked  the  plunge,  and  had  taken  it  on 
several  occasions,  without  apparent  damage.  Her 
reputation  could  not  be  impaired,  and  she  laughingly 
compared  it  to  an  old  leather  bottle,  which  was  sea 
worthy  and  would  neither  bend,  break,  corrode,  nor 
tarnisn. 

All  in  all  she  was  but  an  exponent  of  the  decadence 
of  her  place  and  time  :  lawless  where  the  law  could 
not  reach  her ;  enthralled  in  fantastic  idleness  and 
bizarre  fashions ;  restless  in  the  pursuit  of  new  and 
spasmodic  sensations :  jaded  and  surfeited,  but  with 
out  repose ;  and  possessed  by  a  frenzy  for  publicity 
at  all  hazards. 

Tyson  tried  to  escape  them,  but  Julian  hailed  him 
and  he  was  introduced. 

Lady  Wringcliff  regarded  him  with  a  gaze  that  was 
meant  to  constrain  a  recognition  by  him  of  her  oracu 
lar  penetration,  rather  than  to  inform  herself  :  she 
half  shut  her  eyes  with  a  brooding  look  of  Oriental 

224 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


reserve  and  subtlety,  a  look  designed  to  awe,  confuse 
and  puzzle ;  she  exposed  him  to  an  equally  inscrutable 
smile,  and  waited  for  the  effect,  but  the  spell  failed 
ignominiously. 

"  How  do  you  do  ? "  said  Tyson  gruffly,  with  a 
mere  jerk  of  his  head  and  an  impulse  to  pass  on. 

She  blew  a  coil  of  rings  from  a  scented  cigarette 
to  exhibit  the  pout  she  could  give  her  lips  as  she  ad 
dressed  him. 

"  We  have  been  talking  about  the  Philistines,"  she 
said.  "  They  are  an  old  grievance  of  Julian's  and 
mine,  but  do  you  know,  I  believe  he  is  going  over  to 
the  enemy.  He  is  growing  serious,  and  serious  peo 
ple  are  always  banal ;  they  hobble  about  like  cripples, 
and  are  never  able  to  stand  alone  without  the  crutches 
they  make  out  of  the  prosaic  axioms  which  come  to 
them  ready-made  and  save  them  from  the  trouble  of 
thinking  for  themselves.  They  are  always  making 
bargains  with  themselves  or  with  heaven,  and  they 
are  constantly  mixing  the  two.  Discover  their  god, 
and  you  will  find  it  is  bicephalous,  its  separate  heads 
being  Thrift  and  Prudence.  What  a  very  ugly  mon 
ster  indeed  !  And  I  believe  I  've  caught  Julian  nod 
ding  to  it ! " 

She  pointed  a  finger  at  Julian,  who  promptly  de 
murred.  "  I  never  had  a  god  of  any  kind,  and  there 
fore  cannot  be  an  apostate." 

"  What  is  the  matter  then  ?  What  has  lengthened 
your  face  and  made  your  eyes  so  apprehensive  2  You 
are  sunk  in  lethargy,  like  a  fish  in  a  poisoned  river. 
You  do  not  rise  to  any  of  the  spangled  flies  I  've 
tried  to  bait  you  with.  You  are  beclouded  in  super 
stition.  Why,  it  is  only  five  months  since  we  parted, 
and  lo !  your  wit  has  gone ;  you  sigh  more  than  you 

o  225 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


laugh,  and  no  spark  of  mine  will  ignite  you.  Why 
do  you  turn  to  Mr.  Tyson  to  answer  for  you  ?  " 

This  Julian  indeed  had  done.  Struggle  against  it 
as  he  would,  there  was  weariness  in  his  glance,  and 
from  his  face  Tyson  surmised  an  opiate.  "  Perhaps 
you  are  not  well,  old  boy,"  he  hinted. 

"  Illness  does  not  account  for  dullness,"  she  de 
clared.  "  Only  stupid  people  grow  more  stupid  when 
they  are  ill — theirs  is  a  congenital  and  progressive 
disease  for  which  there  is  no  cure.  When  clever  peo 
ple  have  pain  it  sharpens  them  and  stimulates  them 
like  wine,  and  their  ruffled  nerves  play  like  the  strings 
of  a  harp  in  the  winds  of  malady.  Are  you  really 
out  of  sorts,  Jule  ? " 

"  I  am  out  of  training,  Laura — that 's  all.  Kemem- 
ber,  I  have  not  encountered  anybody  like  you  for  five 
long  months.  One  has  to  be  very  fit  to  keep  pace 
with  you." 

She  brought  out  of  a  little  embroidered  bag  a  phial 
containing  some  white  pellets,  and  handed  one  to 
him. 

"  Take  one  :  it  will  do  you  good.  It 's  a  very 
simple  thing — Sir  "William  gave  them  to  me  to  tone 
me  up  after  a  month  in  Paris  with  Hilda  Horshain. 
It  was  n't  Paris,  but  Hilda,  that  gave  me  ennui. 
They  are  really  as  harmless  as  sweets — only  a  little 
arsenic  and  strychnia.  Won't  you  have  one,  Mr. — 
Mr.  Tyson?" 

Julian  took  one,  but  Tyson  refused.  "  Then  you 
sometimes  find  that  the  winds  of  malady  do  not  make 
pleasant  music  since  you  seek  a  remedy  ? "  he  ven 
tured. 

She  pouted  again,  and  a  ray  of  sunshine  dusted 
with  gold  the  crimson  ointment  on  her  lips.  "  I  'm 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


afraid  you  do  not  understand  me,  Mr.  Tyson,"  she 
drawled,  with  a  slight  contraction  of  the  nostrils, 
and  the  curtain  dropped  over  her  eyes.  "  I  listen  to 
all  the  harmonies  of  the  world.  Sometimes  chamber 
music  pleases  me — sometimes  I  prefer  the  entire 
orchestra." 

Tyson  shuffled  his  feet  and  then  made  a  superfluous 
excuse  for  leaving  them. 

As  he  disappeared  down  the  terraces  of  the  garden 
Lady  Wringcliff  flung  a  grimace  after  him.  "  What 
a  depressing  person !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Is  he  one 
of  the  trophies  of  your  travels,  Julian  ?  After  all 
your  wandering,  could  n't  you  bring  back  something 
more  interesting  than  that  ?  What  ails  you  that  you 
associate  with  such  a  creature  ?  Julia  must  get"  rid 
of  him  at  once  if  she  and  you  wish  me  to  stay." 

"  You  '11  like  him  better  when  you  know  him, 
Laura." 

"  That  will  be  when  yesterday  comes  back  and  I  'm 
reborn  in  a  cave." 

"  Oh,  Tyson  is  n't  a  bad  fellow.  But  where  are 
those  spangled  flies  you  spoke  about  ?  Throw  another 
one,  and  I  '11  try  to  rise  to  it." 

But  he  hid  a  yawn  as  he  spoke,  and  was  much 
changed  from  the  man  she  had  known  before. 

Meanwhile  Tyson  was  strolling  along  the  chalk 
cliffs  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  musing  on  the  unex 
pected  results  of  his  vicarious  housekeeping. 

"  There  ought  to  be  a  special  annex — a  sort  of  vi 
varium — for  reptiles  of  that  kind,"  he  soliloquized. 
"  She  ought  to  have  been  mentioned  in  the  lease." 

What  she  and  the  Hilda  Horshams  and  the  Glegs 
stood  for — the  mannerisms,  the  wearisome,  hollow 
artificiality  of  life,  the  crave  for  "  smartness,"  and 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


the  garish  and  the  abnormal — the  strain  for  the  ef 
fect  of  wit  where  wit  was  not — he  loathed ;  and  yet 
it  seemed  that  all  the  society  he  had  seen,  all  except 
that  at  Winsbury,  capered  to  the  same  tune  in  the 
dance  of  fools  and  apes  in  the  frantic  masquerade. 

The  fresh  morning  air  from  the  sea  was  good  after 
those  few  minutes  with  Lady  Wringcliff,  and  he 
needed  its  antidote  to  the  mephitic  presence  which 
he  had  just  escaped.  The  slopes  above  the  cliffs  were 
almost  as  green  as  ever,  and  yew,  myrtle,  laurel  and 
holly  in  the  hedges  glossed  theVinding  little  lanes  and 
glades — even  a  few  pale  roses  remained, — though  the 
bare  branches  of  the  deciduous  trees  tossed  and 
creaked  above  them.  Only  the  oak  leaves  clung  to  the 
boughs,  where  they  rattled  like  coin  in  a  miser's  hand. 
The  sea  had  lost  its  variety  of  colour,  and  glittered 
from  the  horizon  to  the  shore  in  a  brittle,  sapphire  flood. 
Among  the  flints  and  pebbles  and  chalk  boulders  at 
the  foot  of  the  cliffs,  barnacled  and  bearded  wreckage 
and  bunches  of  dark  orange  seaweed  swayed  in  the 
lapping  tide  and  filled  the  air  with  a  pungent  aroma. 
On  a  reef  a  little  distance  out  a  dismasted  and  aban 
doned  sloop  which  had  gone  ashore  in  a  late  gale, 
lurched  from  side  to  side  in  the  breakers,  enmeshed 
in  the  tangle  of  fallen  rigging,  like  a  thing  caught  in 
its  own  net.  It  seemed  to  be  alive  as  it  writhed, 
quivered  and  groaned,  and  the  water  gushed  out  of 
the  seams  in  its  sides  and  decks  as  each  wave  thun 
dered  against  it  and  careened  it  from  beam-end  to 
beam-end.  Some  children  on  the  shore  shouted  at  it 
and  hurled  stones  at  it,  and  as  Tyson  watched  them 
the  poor  hulk  became  to  him  "  like  a  man  that  is 
down  "  and  hooted  because  he  is  down. 

Farther  on  he  reached  a  cove  where  a  long  flight 

228 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


of  rickety  steps  led  from  the  cliff  to  a  cluster  of  fish 
ermen's  huts  on  the  beach,  with  a  litter  of  tarry  lob 
ster  pots  and  nets  around  them.  Two  men  stood  up 
in  their  rocking  boats  and  hauled  in  their  lines,  while 
the  gulls  rising  and  falling  screamed  and  whirled 
above  them. 

There  was  a  little  bench  here  at  the  edge  of  the 
cliff  on  which  he  often  sat,  and  as  he  moved  towards 
it  he  noticed  that  it  was  occupied  by  a  young  woman 
dressed  in  black  with  that  neatness,  simplicity  and 
restraint  of  colour  and  ornament  which  uniforms 
domestic  service  of  the  better  class  in  England.  She 
did  not  see  him  as  he  approached,  and  he  paused 
without  a  conscious  motive  at  a  distance  behind  her. 
A  book  was  in  her  lap,  but  her  eyes  were  fixed  on 
the  billows  as  with  lengthening  crests  they  sprang 
forward  in  vibrating  lines,  like  the  loosened  strings 
of  a  bow,  and  burst  wrathfully  on  the  boulders  and 
hissing  shingles. 

It  was  her  attitude  that  arrested  him,  for  it  had 
the  limpness  of  despair,  the  irresistance  of  an  unvoiced 
sorrow  that  bends  as  a  reed  to  an  unseen  wind. 

She  plucked  at  the  fingers  of  her  gloves,  and  shifted 
her  eyes  from  the  sea  to  the  turf  at  her  feet ;  she  rip 
pled  the  pages  of  her  book,  and  looked  out  to  sea 
again.  She  was  still  in  the  early  twenties,  and  her  face 
was  fresh  and  pretty,  though  shadowed  and  drawn 
by  her  grief.  She  quickly  and  suspiciously  lifted  it 
to  him  with  a  tightened  mouth,  when,  hearing  a  sob 
in  a  lull  of  the  wind,  he  came  a  step  nearer  to  her 
and  his  heel  gjrated  on  a  pebble. 

It  was  in  his  heart  to  speak  to  her :  it  was  never 
possible  for  him  to  see  distress,  however  casual  or  re 
mote  it  might  be,  without  responding  to  it  with  the 

229 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


impulse  of  succour.  But  as  she  raised  her  eyes  to  him 
they  were  at  that  moment  diverted  by  another  and 
more  distant  object,  towards  which  he  also  directed 
his  gaze. 

Between  the  edge  of  the  cliff  and  the  town  lies  a 
valley,  and  the  road  on  its  inner  slope  is  as  near  as 
carriages  can  come  to  the  path  where  the  bench  is 
perched  on  the  white  precipice.  A  carriage  had  just 
pulled  up,  and  Tyson  saw  the  glitter  of  the  harness 
and  the  cockaded  coachman  and  footman  sitting 
rigidly  on  the  box.  Then  he  recognized  in  the  occu 
pants  Lady  Wringcliff  and  Julian,  and  the  latter 
waved  his  hand  and  beckoned  him,  but  he  in  turn 
signalled  a  refusal  to  the  invitation. 

The  girl  also  recognized  them,  and  with  a  fright 
ened  look  first  at  the  carriage  and  then  at  Tyson,  rose 
at  once  and  slipped  away  along  the  path  in  the  direc 
tion  of  Bonchurch. 

Lady  WringclifFs  rooms  were  in  the  same  corridor 
of  the  house  as  his,  and  in  the  evening  he  discovered 
that  the  girl  he  had  met  in  the  morning  was  her  lady 
ship's  maid.  From  time  to  time  he  heard  the  mis 
tress  giving  orders  to  her  in  a  languid  voice,  and  the 
timid,  obedient,  whispered  replies.  She  was  "  Mor 
ris  "  to  her  mistress  and  the  other  servants,  her  sur 
name  alone  being  used,  as  the  English  custom  is, 
without  any  baptismal  adjunct.  It  was  a  custom 
which  Tyson  did  not  like,  for  it  seemed  to  disallow 
one  of  the  simplest  dignities  of  sex,  and  to  withhold 
something  gently  human  from  the  relationship  that 
should  exist  between  those  who  rule  and  those  who 
serve. 

Julian  disappeared  at  the  end  of  dinner,  and  Tyson 
went  to  his  own  room  soon  after  him.  He  was  not 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


sleepy,  and  sat  smoking  before  an  open  window  and 
watching  the  lights  of  the  ships  as  they  glided  in  a 
starry  procession  between  the  headlands.  For  a  while 
the  house  was  silent :  the  dead  leaves  of  the  oaks  flapped 
with  a  metallic  click  on  the  branches ;  one  sapless 
bough  occasionally  rubbed  another  with  a  rusty 
creak ;  the  surf  volleyed  with  rhythmic  iteration  on 
the  shrieking  pebbles. 

Then  he  heard  voices  in  Lady  Wringcliff  s  room 
across  the  corridor,  the  low  but  rapid  murmur  of  a 
woman's  and  the  deeper  tone  of  a  man's,  though  the 
latter  was  reduced  to  a  whisper. 

"  Her  ladyship  is  even  more  indiscreet  than  I  ex 
pected  her  to  be,"  Tyson  mused,  with  a  cynical  curve 
of  the  lips. 

He  remembered  that  he  wanted  his  despatch  box, 
which  he  had  left  in  the  library  downstairs  since 
morning,  and  as  he  went  out  into  the  corridor  Julian 
confronted  him  from  the  opposite  door. 

"  Ah,  Jim ! "  he  exclaimed,  with  a  scarcely  percep 
tible  start.  "  I  did  n't  know  that  you  were  in  your 
room.  I  supposed  you  were  downstairs.  Shall  we 
have  a  game  of  billiards  before  we  go  to  bed?" 

Tyson  refused,  without  explaining  why,  and  as  he 
crossed  the  drawing-room  to  reach  the  library  he 
found  that  Lady  Wringcliff  was  still  there,  not  in 
her  own  apartment,  as  he  had  supposed.  She  was 
talking  to  Lady  Cheam  from  the  corner  of  a  couch  on 
which  she  reclined  with  dangling  feet  and  with  her 
head  half  hidden  in  a  bank  of  rose-silk  pillows. 
She  blew  a  fresh  wreath  of  her  cigarette  smoke 
after  him,  and  after  arching  her  brows  with  affected 
surprise  followed  him  across  the  room  with  the  sultry 
ana  apathetic  eyes  of  an  odalisque. 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  I  knew  you  were  fond  of  making  a  museum  of 
your  house,  Julia,  but  your  effigies  are  usually  at 
least  modern.  Why  this  troglodyte  ? "  she  sneered. 

Tyson  was  sneering  too — at  her  and  particularly  at 
the  full-sized  butterfly  of  diamonds  and  emeralds 
which  glistened  in  the  chiffon  over  her  heart.  But  as 
he  opened  the  despatch  box  his  face  became  more 
serious. 

*•*#•*#•*#•* 

"Then  it  was  n't  her  ladyship  that  beast  was 
talking  to  upstairs,"  he  reflected.  "  It  was  that  poor 
little  girl,  the  maid  !  " 


232 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XXL     In  a  Druidical  Circle. 


ON  the  following  morning  Tyson  dressed  by 
candlelight  and  left  the  house  before  the 
sun  had  driven  the  hoar  frost  from  the 
grass.     It  was  the  day  of  his  invitation 
to  Winsbury,  and  he  arrived  there  before 
the  morning  service  was  over. 
As  he  lingered  in  the  quiet  deserted  close  and 
looked  up  to  the  slender  spire,  which  is  the  chief  glory 
of  the  cathedral,  his  heart  soared  with  it,  and  he 
gazed  with  reverent  delight  on  the  grace  and  ela 
boration  of  buttress,  niche,  canopy,  corbel,  arch  and 
mullioned  window.    It  scarcely  seemed  to  be  an  edi 
fice  of  stone,  with  foundations  in  the  earth,  but  rather 
a  high  and  many-peaked  pavilion  of  the  sky  which 
might  vanish  at  any  moment  with  the  shifting  clouds. 
He  could  hear  the  high  voice  of  the  priest  reading 
the  lessons,  and  the  fresh  boy  voices  singing,  "  O  God 
our  help  in  ages  past,"  and  when  he  stood  in  the  porch 
he  could  see  Mary  under  the  pulpit,  now  sitting,  now 
rising  and  bowing  her  head.     He  admired  her  grey 
dress,  and  noticed  one  white  rose  gleaming  under  the 
folds  of  her  simple  hat. 

His  heart  rose  and  fell :  now  he  was  exalted,  now 
233 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


cast  down  in  humility,  as  the  old  emotions  of  reli 
gion  sprang  up  afresh  after  long  dormancy,  like  a 
plant  that  is  leafless  but  alive  at  the  roots.  Once 
planted  in  the  child,  such  roots  die  only  with  the 
man,  and  so  easily  do  they  revive  that  even  memory 
is  sufficient  to  bring  forth  new  shoots  from  the  crusted 
and  apparently  sterile  soil  in  which  they  are  hidden. 

Mary  was  in  the  highest  spirits  that  day,  and  wel 
comed  him  with  more  than  usual  cordiality — as  a 
friend  who  though  not  known  long  was  known  well. 
She  did  not  speak  of  Culvercombe  at  all,  and  when 
he  told  her  that  Julian  was  back  she  merely  said 
"  Yes,"  and  hurried  on  to  other  topics. 

Lancelot's  indiscretion  had  not  rankled  in  her,  and 
when  they  all  met  at  luncheon,  he,  she,  the  bishop 
and  Tyson,  there  was  much  lively  talk  between  them. 
When  he  sat  down  Tyson  had  some  fears  as  to  where 
it  might  drift,  but  he  floated  along  with  it  buoyantly 
and  never  once  found  himself  out  of  his  depth,  or 
crippled  by  his  lack  of  knowledge.  Lancelot  was 
disposed  to  monopolize  it  with  his  hobby — he  was  a 
youth  of  uncontrollable  enthusiasm — but  Mary 
laughed  him  down. 

"  I  know  that  Mr.  Tyson  is  interested  in  it,"  he 
protested.  "  I  could  see  it  that  night  he  came  to  my 
den  in  Wakeport.  I  could  see  it  by  the  way  he  went 
over  the  figures  I  showed  him.  He  did  n't  yawn  as 
so  many  people  do.  You  believe  in  it,  do  n't  you, 
Mr.  Tyson  ? "  he  said,  appealing  to  the  guest. 

"  It  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  capital  idea,"  Tyson  re 
plied.  "  Besides  I  quite  agree  with  you.  The  chil 
dren  have  the  first  claim  on  all  of  us.  You  can't  do 
much  for  adults — for  this  generation — except  alleviate 
its  misery ;  but  I  wonder  what  the  result  would  be  if 

234 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


you  gathered  in  all  the  destitute  children  of  the  slums 
and  gave  them  all  just  a  fair  start  in  life — how  many  of 
them  would  prove  to  be  totally  depraved  by  nature." 

"  Not  one  in  ten  thousand ! "  Lancelot  cried,  with 
a  fervour  that  was  not  particular  as  to  vital  statistics. 

"  I  do  n't  know  about  that — that 's  going  rather 
too  far — you  've  got  to  reckon  with  heredity,  which 
*  reaches  ghostly  hands  from  graves,'  as  an  American 
poet  says  ;  there 's  no  getting  over  that — but  I  be 
lieve  there  are  few  children  who  are  incorrigibly  bad. 
Most  of  them  fall  into  evil  courses  because  they  do  n't 
know  any  better — because  they  've  no  chance,  and 
are  driven  by  circumstance  and  surroundings.  They 
are  the  ones  I  'd  like  to  help." 

Then  Lancelot  told  him  of  the  gift  which  had  so 
closely  followed  his  visit  to  Wakeport,  and  he  was 
conscious  that  all  three  were  looking  at  him  to  per 
ceive  the  effect  of  the  information. 

He  coughed  and  feigned  surprise.  "  Is  that  so  ? 
Well,  that 's  good  news,"  he  said,  fingering  the  stem 
of  his  glass.  "  That  will  make  a  beginning,  anyway." 

"  And  the  giver  insisted  that  the  ship  should  be 
called  the  Mary  Leigh"  Lancelot  added,  with  a  full 
valuation  of  the  picturesqueness  of  the  fact. 

"That's  natural  enough.  Why  should  n't  he?" 
Tyson  asked,  glancing  ingenuously  at  Mary. 

"  How  preposterous  you  are,  Lancelot ! "  she  cried, 
the  implication  being  insisted  on  by  her  brother's 
nods  in  her  direction.  "  Your  inferences  grow  like 
mushrooms,  and  are  no  more  substantial.  How 
many  Mary  Leighs  are  there  in  the  directory  ? " 

Tyson  pounced  upon  this  opportunity,  and  beamed 
as  he  said  mischievously  but  with  impressive  finality, 
"  ONE."  But  Mary  frowned. 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


She  proposed  that  Lancelot  and  he  should  drive 
with  her  to  some  Druidical  stones  on  a  plain  to  the 
north  of  Winsbury,  which  he  had  not  yet  seen,  and 
the  arrangement  was  agreed  to,  except  that  Lancelot 
objected  to  the  carriage  and  preferred  to  go  on  his 
own  wheel  and  meet  them  at  their  destination. 

"  I  '11  be  there  long  before  you,"  he  declared  ;  but 
that  was  a  phrase  which  the  energetic  and  precipitant 
youth  was  in  the  habit  of  using,  in  his  abundant  self- 
confidence.  On  this  occasion  he  failed  to  justify  it, 
and  when  Mary  and  Tyson  arrived  on  the  scene  they 
were  alone. 

The  plain  flattened  to  the  sky  and  stretched  across 
an  uninhabited  world:  it  reminded  Tyson  of  the 
cattle  ranges  by  its  emptiness  and  desolation,  and 
where  a  mound  or  a  ridge  notched  the  sky-line  it 
marked  the  tumulus  left  by  forgotten  people  in  un 
recorded  ages.  Time  was  wnen  the  Romans  swarmed 
here,  and  the  remains  of  their  villas,  forts  and  camps 
abound ;  but  it  is  to  prehistoric  and  pagan  days  that 
the  great  circle  of  stones  belongs.  From  a  distance 
they  look  like  a  group  of  solemn  shapes  in  monkish 
dress,  engaged  in  some  mysterious  rite,  and  to  draw 
nearer  together  as  a  trespasser  approaches.  They 
stand  on  end,  most  of  them,  and  lean  forward  and 
backward,  as  if  ready  to  prostrate  themselves,  as  some 
of  their  fellows  have  done.  Some  of  them  are  united 
by  cross  pieces  from  apex  to  apex.  The  blasts  of 
wind  and  sun  have  smoothed  their  edges,  and  the  rain 
has  scored  their  surfaces ;  but  they  still  hold  the  plain 
in  sullen  reticence  and  majestic  defiance  of  all  human 
changes.  Yielding  no  account  of  themselves,  nor  of 
their  origin  or  its  purposes,  they  ply  the  pigmy  spec 
tator  at  their  feet  with  questions — "  W  hither  ? " 

236 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Why  ?  "  "  To  what  end  ?  "—till  he  is  silenced  by 
the  comparison  of  his  own  evanescence  with  their 
durability. 

Neither  Tyson  nor  Mary  spoke  till  he  had  received 
the  impression  which  she  waited  for,  and  then  she 
repeated  to  him  the  conjectures  of  archaeologists  as 
to  the  period  of  the  sanctuary,  for  that  is  what  the 
circle  is  supposed  to  have  been;  it  was  surmised, 
she  told  him,  that  the  slab  of  blue  marble  they 
were  resting  on  had  been  an  altar,  and  used  for 
sacrifices. 

"  Always  sacrifices !  Pagan  or  Christian,  man  has 
never  been  allowed  to  breathe  without  being  called 
on  for  sacrifices." 

The  words  were  at  his  tongue's  end,  but  he  thought 
them  instead  of  speaking  them.  "  Could  n't  God  do 
without  them?  Isn't  it  all  a  mistake  to  suppose 
that  he  desires  them  or  approves  of  them  ?  Is  n't  it 
a  superstition — something  that  has  come  down  to  us 
as  a  relic  of  the  times  when  idols  could  be  propiti 
ated  by  slaughter? " 

There  were  other  thoughts  more  personal  in  his 
mind  which  clamoured  for  utterance.  He  wished  to 
put  himself  clearly  before  her  on  a  matter  that  he 
accused  himself  of  having  concealed,  though  it  was 
her  right  to  know  it,  and  after  the  disclosure  of  that 
he  had  something  to  say  that  might  be  perilous  to 
him  in  the  sequence — something  that  struggled  with 
in  him  and  cried  "  Yes "  and  "  No "  with  feverish 
and  tormenting  vacillation.  "  Speak,"  it  cried,  and 
"  No— to  speak  is  folly." 

He  could  not  delay  the  crisis  any  longer,  however, 
and  while  it  impended  he  communicated  his  own  sus 
pense  to  her. 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


She  never  looked  more  compelling  nor  more  unat 
tainable  than  she  did  sitting  there  on  the  sacrificial 
stone  in  her  simple  grey  dress,  with  her  hair  drawn 
into  a  knot  above  her  slender  neck,  and  the  loose 
sprays  of  it  glinting  in  the  wind  and  blowing  over 
her  forehead  and  over  her  cheeks,  as  they  glowed 
with  the  silvery  pink  of  a  pearl  in  the  suspense  she 
could  not  understand. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  've  deceived  you,"  he  began  abruptly, 
"  and  am  doing  what  I  promised  myself  I  Jd  never 
do — sailing  under  false  colours.  There 's  something 
that  you  ought  to  know  about  the  trip  I  made  to 
Wakeport  in  search  of  my  sister.  I  told  you  only 
part,  when  I  should  have  told  you  all." 

"  I  am  sure  you  told  me  everything  that  I  had 
any  claim  to  know." 

She  spoke  quietly,  but  with  reassurance  in  her 
tone. 

"  E"o ;  that  might  be  true  of  others,  but  it  is  not 
true  of  you.  You  are  the  only  one  who  should 
know ;  I  do  n't  care  about  the  rest :  they  can  think 
what  they  please,  laugh  if  they  please,  despise  me  if 
they  please." 

"  I  can  never  believe  you  fly  false  colours,"  she  af 
firmed. 

"  Then  call  it  false  pride.  There 's  as  much  deceit 
in  that  as  in  anything  else.  It  has  made  an  im 
postor  of  me.  I  've  not  been  honest  with  you." 

"  What  is  it  ? "  she  asked,  with  the  undisturbed 
confidence  of  one  who  listens  leniently  to  unsup 
ported  and  incredible  accusations. 

"You  should  know  what  my  connections  are. 
They  may  shock  you — they  may  show  you  that  I  am 
not  fit— " 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


He  checked  himself,  and  a  pride  that  was  not  false 
but  the  prerogative  of  such  an  unstained  manhood 
as  his,  rose  in  revolt  against  too  much  depreciation. 
"  Let  her  know,"  an  inner  voice  said,  "  but  do  not  fling 
yourself  away  in  the  dust  of  abasement ;  she  will 
Know  as  you  in  your  heart  know,  that  what  you  have 
to  tell  her  calls  for  pity  and  not  reproach."  "  Yes," 
another  voice  pleaded,  "  she  must  know,  and  when  she 
knows  she  will  pity,  but  convention  binds  the  world 
in  a  net  from  which  no  individual  can  escape  with 
out  the  consent  of  others  ;  her  heart  may  rise  insur 
gent,  but  as  no  man  liveth  to  himself  or  aieth  to  him 
self,  she  will  find  that  the  trammels  cannot  be  broken 
without  consequence  to  more  than  herself,  and  she 
will  not  dare  to  face  them." 

He  watched  her  anxiously  as  he  told  her  the  story 
of  the  workhouse  and  Mrs.  Twiggs,  and  though  be 
fore  he  ended  her  eyes  fell  away  from  him,  they 
were  lifted  a  moment  later  wet  with  tears,  and  elo 
quent  with  compassion. 

Unworthy  of  ner  he  might  be,  but  from  that  mo 
ment  he  rid  himself  of  all  concern  for  the  disparage 
ment  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 

"  You  must  remember,"  he  said,  "  that  I  thought 
she  was  dead,  and  it  was  only  a  few  weeks  before 
Julian  came  to  Sheba  that  I  had  a  feeling  she  was  alive. 
For  all  that  I  ought  to  have  made  sure  ;  I  ought  to 
have  come  over  here  sooner  myself ;  then  perhaps  I 
might  have  found  her.  But  there  was  no  getting 
away  from  the  mine ;  for  years  it  was  only  a  prospect 
which  might  turn  out  as  well  as  it  has  done,  or  might 
end  in  nothing  but  a  hole  in  the  ground.  I  could  n't 
get  away.  I  had  staked  everything  I  'd  got  in  the 
world  on  it." 

239 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Yes,  I  see,"  she  said  softly,  as  she  slowly  nodded 
her  head. 

"  You  're  not  ashamed  of  me  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Ashamed — ashamed  ? "  she  repeated. 

"  Ashamed  of  such  antecedents  as  these.  They 
do  not — degrade  me,  do  they  ? " 

He  breathed  heavily,  and  stumbled  for  the  word. 
"  The  world  is  always  jealous  of  the  man  who  rises 
out  of  his  class,  and  looks  on  him  as  an  interloper," 
he  complained.  "  How  many  people  are  there — 
even  in  the  class  from  which  he  rises — who  do  not 
lau^h,  and  not  pleasantly  either,  when  they  speak 
of  his  origin  ?  They  hold  it  up  against  him — cov 
ertly  if  not  openly — as  a  disgrace  instead  of  an  honour. 
However  much  he  may  improve  himself,  however 
good  his  life  may  be,  his  name  cannot  be  mentioned 
if  he  reaches  any  social  position,  except  as  a  nick 
name.  He  may  have  risen  from  the  ranks,  and  won 
the  Victoria  Cross ;  but  when  they  speak  of  it  they 
never  fail  to  remind  you  of  what  he  was — that  sticks 
in  their  heads  more  than  his  valour,  and  they  refer  to 
it  apologetically  but  persistently,  as  if  it  were  a  stain. 
That's  one  of  the  things  I  don't  like  in  England. 
There 's  very  little  of  it  in  the  United  States,  but  you 
can  find  it  there  too." 

"It  is  not  as  common  as  you  think,"  she  said 
placidly.  "  It  is  passing  away  in  England — so  many 
old  prejudices  are  passing  away.  Men  like  you 
make  them  impossible." 

"How?" 

He  clutched  at  her  answer. 

"  By  your  abilities,  and  by  your  character." 

"  Then  you  do  n't  think  any  the  worse  of  me  for 
what  I  have  told  you  ? " 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Of  course  I  do  n't.     I  think  all  the  more." 

It  seemed  to  him  that  fetters  were  falling  frpm 
him  and  all  the  low  clouds  drifting  from  the  plain. 

"  Let  us  look  for  Lancelot,"  she  said,  as,  rising  sud 
denly,  she  perceived  his  agitation  and  awoke  to  an 
intuition  of  something  coming  that  she  was  not  pre 
pared  for. 

"  Not  yet,  not  yet,"  he  cried.  "  See  where  we  are 
sitting." 

"  A  pagan  altar." 

"  The  stone  of  sacrifice.    Listen." 

"  Your  cigarette  has  gone  out,"  she  reminded  him, 
with  intention  to  delay  and  to  keep  her  self  -posses 
sion.  He  threw  the  cigarette  away  and  she  obeyed 
him. 

"  Listen  for  a  moment.  I  must  speak — I  cannot 
put  it  off  any  longer — it  burns  me."  He  drew  closer 
to  her,  and  appealed  to  her  in  a  deep,  tremulous, 
urgent  voice.  "  Will  you  make  a  sacrifice  for  me  ? " 

He  could  see  only  her  profile  as  she  bent  her  head 
away  from  him.  "  A  very  great  sacrifice  ? "  he  re 
peated,  with  emphasis,  and  as  she  did  not  answer,  the 
second  voice  that  had  whispered  before  whispered 
again :  "  She  will  pity,  but  convention  binds  the 
world  in  a  net.  .  .  .  Her  heart  may  rise  insur 
gent.  .  .  .  but  the  trammels  cannot  be  broken." 

He  could  see  that  she  trembled,  and  that  her  cheeks 
were  flushed.  Her  placid  habit  of  self-control  was 
strained. 

"  You  know  what  I  want  to  say  ? " 

"I  am  afraid  I  do." 

"  Afraid  ?  !N o,  do  n't  be  afraid.  I  am  the  one  who 
should  be  afraid.  So  much  depends  on  you — I  have 
so  much  to  ask,  and  so  little  to  hope  for,  that  I  have 
p  241 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


every  reason  to  be  afraid.  But  it  is  not  impossible, 
is  it  ?  You  know  me  pretty  well.  Does  manhood 
count,  or  is  misfortune  a  brand  that  lasts  for  ever  ? 
Is  a  man  out  of  the  running  because  he  has  had  to 
struggle  for  bread,  and  has  not  all  the  polish  of  others 
who  have  had  greater  advantages  in  youth  ?  Does 
he  disgrace  a  woman  because  his  birth  is  humble  and 
his  education  unfinished — because  he  trips  in  Latin 
and  Greek  and  is  shy  in  a  ball-room  ? " 

He  struck  out  impetuously  now,  and  led  the  way 
without  waiting  for  her  answer.  "  That 's  what  the 
world  thinks,  I  know.  The  conventions  of  the  world 
are  against  me,  and  I  cannot  argue  for  myself.  I 
am  not  worthy  of  you — I  am  your  inferior  in  every 
way.  I  do  not  wonder  that  I  have  been  afraid  to 
tell  you  of  my  love  :  it  began  on  the  downs — I  loved 
you  at  once,  and  feared  as  I  loved,  because  I  knew 
how  little  I  could  ever  deserve  you.  But  you  did 
seem  happy  with  me  up  there,  and  sometimes  let  me 
forget  my — inferiority.  I  could  not  believe  that  you 
saw  the  disparity  between  us  as  I  saw  it  myself — 
you  were  too  kind  for  that." 

He  lifted  her  hand,  which  had  been  rubbing  the 
rough  edge  of  the  stone,  and  she  let  it  rest  for  a  mo 
ment  in  his.  Her  eyes  were  down,  but  she  said  with 
firmness,  "  You  are  not  inferior.  You  belittle  your 
self." 

Her  face  as  she  turned  it  to  him  again  wore  a  pen 
sive  smile,  but  she  withdrew  her  hand. 

"  ISTo,  no,"  he  demurred.    "  It  will  be  a  sacrifice." 

"  But  you  do  not  approve  of  sacrifice." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ? " 

"  I  could  see  it  in  your  face  when  we  sat  down 
here  and  I  told  you  what  the  stone  was  used  for.  I 

242 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


could  see  it  as  plainly  as  if  you  had  spoken.  Your 
face  is  very  expressive.  I  have  learned  a  great  deal 
from  it." 

"  Ah,"  he  sighed ;  "  poor  human  nature  disavows 
many  things  until  it  finds  how  necessary  they  are." 

He  breathed  more  freely,  and  his  face  reflected 
his  increasing  confidence. 

"  I  should  sell  my  interest  in  the  mine,  and  settle 
in  England.  After  all  there 's  no  place  like  England 
for  beauty,"  he  resumed,  with  a  steadier  pulse.  "  You 
know  I  am  well  off — not  rich  as  fortunes  go  in  the 
United  States ;  but  I  've  plenty.  I  could  satisfy  the 
bishop  and  Lancelot  as  to  settlements,  and  after  that 
there  would  be  enough  left  to  buy  such  a  place  as 
Culvercombe  and  float  a  small  fleet  of  such  ships  as 
your  brother  wants.  "What  I  should  do  besides 
would  depend  on  your  wishes.  I  would  do  anything 
and  everything  for  you — Mary." 

His  dreams  roved  through  the  balm  of  endless 
summers  and  a  griefless  world  before  she  checked  him. 

"  You  are  going  too  fast." 

"  You  do  n't  mean  that  you  won't  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  I  mean  that  there  are  others  to  think  of — that  is 
the  reason  why  conventions  are  conventions." 

"The  bishop  likes  me?" 

"  He  likes  you— but—  " 

She  was  embarrassed,  and  Tyson  faltered  again. 
His  ineligibility  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  don  and 
the  head  of  an  Episcopalian  diocese  loomed  up  like 
a  precipice  in  a  mist. 

"  You  can  do  anything  with  the  bishop — he  won't 
be  difficult,"  he  argued,  though  he  had  a  vague  sus 
picion  that  of  all  classes  in  England  the  academic 
and  the  ecclesiastical  are  the  most  tenacious  and  the 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


most  jealous  in  matters  concerning  precedence  and 
the  stability  of  rank. 

"Uncle  is  the  simplest  of  men,  and  the  dearest, 
but—" 

"  You  are  not  quite  sure  that  he  has  entirely  over 
come  the  prejudices  of  his  class,"  Tyson  said,  anti 
cipating  her. 

"  Even  bishops  are  human,  and  to  be  human  is — to 
be  often  misunderstood  and  sometimes  mistaken," 
she  replied. 

"  And  Lancelot  ? "  he  said,  thinking  of  a  possible 
ally. 

"  Oh,  Lancelot ! "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  sisterly  tilt 
of  her  nose.  "  Lancelot  thinks  he  is  a  democrat,  a 
leveller,  a  socialist ;  but  d6ctrines  like  his  are  usu 
ally  more  for  the  benefit  of  the  world  at  large  than 
for  personal  application." 

"  I  '11  see  the  bishop  soon,  and  I  know  I  can  fix 
Lancelot — see  if  I  do  n't.  But  you — you — you  !  You 
have  no  prejudices !  If  they  do  n't  mind,  you —  " 

She  had  picked  up  one  of  his  gloves,  and  drew  it 
slowly  over  and  over  again  through  her  palm.  He 
had  not  dared  to  touch  her  except  for  the  moment 
that  he  held  her  hand,  but  as  he  watched  her  strok 
ing  the  glove  the  caress  duplicated  itself  and  thrilled 
in  his  senses.  He  grasped  her  hand  again,  and  she 
did  not  resist  the  clasp. 

"  You  have  no  prejudices  \ "  he  repeated. 

"  Yes,  I  have  ;  but  I  call  them,  reasons." 

"On  my  side?" 

"  You  must  give  me  time  to  find  out  what  they 
are." 

"  Then  I  am  worth  considering !  There  is  some 
hope?" 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


The  face  in  the  picture  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  North  " 
at  Culvercombe  was  like  her  after  all — all  it  needed 
was  the  smile  with  which  she  reassured  him. 

"  You  must  wait,"  she  said.    "  I  do  not  promise." 

"  When  may  I  ask  ? " 

"  You  must  not  ask.     Wait  till  I  speak." 

"You  may  never  speak." 

"  Then  we  shall  be  as  we  are — friends." 

She  left  him  in  doubt,  but  the  doubt  was  no  heav 
ier  than  a  cloud  that  drives  across  the  sun  and 
gathers  a  golden  fringe  in  passing. 

Shadows  were  gathering,  and  those  of  the  stone 
circle  seemed  to  open  dark  gullies  in  the  plain. 

Lancelot  had  not  appeared,  and  Tyson  did  not 
mind  that.  They  drove  back  to  Winsbury  through 
a  chain  of  thatched  cottages,  every  link  in  which 
was  of  garden,  orchard,  meadow,  and  hedgerow. 
When  at  last  they  found  Lancelot  he  was  calmly 
smoking  his  pipe  and  lost  in  authority  as  a  self-ap 
pointed  umpire  among  some  boys  who  were  playing 
cricket. 


245 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XXI L     In   which    Tyson   is 
Stunned 


i 


*t  YSON  spent  the  night  at  the  Palace,  and 
the  next  morning  went  to  London  by  an 
early  train.  He  had  been  warned  by 
Mary  that  he  was  not  to  speak  to  the 
bishop,  and  had  no  inclination  to  do 
otherwise  then  leave  the  future  to  her. 
It  was  enough  for  him  that  she  had  listened  to  him  so 
patiently — that  she  had  given  him  even  the  qualified 
and  indecisive  encouragement  of  not  "  turning  him 
down  "  summarily,  as  he  had  feared  she  might. 

He  was  of  good  cheer  when  he  reached  town,  and 
drove  across  Westminster  Bridge  to  his  hotel  on  the 
Embankment,  where  he  extravagantly  kept  a  suite  of 
rooms,  which  he  seldom  occupied. 

He  always  lived  in  advance  of  the  facts  in  his  life 
as  sanguine  temperaments  like  his  will  do,  and  the 
future  smiled  and  beckoned,  more  even  now  than  it 
had  done  when  he  had  dilated  his  nostrils  and  sighed 
in  ecstacy  over  the  idealization  of  England  in  his  ex 
pectant  dreams  under  the  glaring  blue  skies  and 
striped  mesas  of  the  West.  Every  flowery  vista  led  to 
Mary :  she  was  stooping  among  roses  and  gathering 

246 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


them ;  or  standing  among  the  tall  madonna  lilies, 
seeming  herself  like  one  of  them  in  fuller  bloom  and 
of  greater  height  than  the  rest,  as  he  had  seen  her  at 
Culvercombe ;  or  she  was  gliding  along  the  downs  with 
that  soft  quick  step  of  hers  on  the  velvet  turf — on  and 
on  and  on,  glowing  with  pleasant  excitement  and  never 
tiring ;  or  sitting  under  the  yew  on  the  lawn  (their 
own  lawn)  that  sloped  away  from  the  garden  of  a 
Jacobean  house  all  a-glitter  in  its  embayed  and  mul- 
lioned  windows  (their  house)  and  talking  earnestly  to 
him  (only  him)  with  that  tranquil,  secure,  authorita 
tive  look  (some  people  called  it  arrogant,  though  he 
did  not  know  that)  which  came  into  her  face  when 
she  was  very  much  interested  in  anything.  His 
imagination  did  not  stop  with  these  pictures:  he 
clothed  her  in  hues  picked  from  Nature — in  the  rose 
and  lavender  that  mantled  the  East  on  quiet  evenings 
at  sundown,  and  in  the  tender  blue  of  the  drifts  of 
wild  hyacinths  that  he  had  seen  under  the  beeches 
earlier  in  the  year,  like  reflections  of  the  sky  in  placid 
waters,  but  of  all  things  he  preferred  the  soft,  blowy, 
feathery  things,  in  which  she  dressed  oftenest.  She 
should  always  have  some  gowns  like  the  one  he  parti 
cularly  remembered — the  frothy  lace  over  pink  silk. 
So  wrapped  in  these  dreams  was  he  that  he  let  the 
morning  papers  lie  unopened  on  the  seat  in  his  com 
partment  of  the  train,  and  left  them  there  when  he 
took  a  cab  at  "Waterloo.  The  porter  at  the  hotel 
handed  him  a  bundle  of  letters  and  telegrams, 
but  he  carelessly  threw  them  on  his  dressing  table, 
and  at  once  stepped  out  on  to  the  balcony  that 
opened  up  and  down  the  river  from  Battersea  to 
the  curve  below  Blackfriars.  The  air  was  chill 
and  clammy  and  every  object  appeared  as  vague  as 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


shadows  in  a  cloud.  A  dark  saffron  fog  engulfed 
the  city,  and  steeped  the  whole  scene  in  its  neutral 
colour,  subduing  even  the  russet  sails  of  the  barges  and 
the  greens,  reds  and  yellows  of  their  almost  sub 
merged  hulls.  The  pinnacles  of  the  Houses  of  Par 
liament,  the  towers  of  the  Abbey,  and  the  dome  of 
St.  Paul's — every  familiar  landmark — was  either  ef 
faced  altogether,  or  visible  in  distorted  and  dislocated 
fragments. 

Tyson  did  not  care — the  chill  could  not  reach  his 
heart,  and  the  fog  only  made  an  untouched  canvas  on 
which  his  visions  could  impress  themselves  without 
the  intrusion  of  other  objects. 

He  was  unconscious  of  the  time  he  remained  there, 
but  his  bell  rang  and  a  servant  appeared  at  the  door 
to  announce  Lord  Komer.  It  was  noon  then — very 
early  for  a  call,  and  still  leaving  his  letters  and  des 
patches  unopened  he  went  downstairs  to  meet  his  un 
expected  visitor,  wondering  what  the  occasion  could 
be  for  his  appearance  at  that  hour.  He  was  even 
more  surprised  and  mystified  when  he  found  other  cal 
lers  awaiting  him,  though  they  had  not  yet  had  an  op 
portunity  to  announce  themselves — among  them  Gleg 
and  the  two  men  who  had  gone  away  discussing  him 
after  the  dinner  party  of  the  previous  week. 

Lord  Romer  was  a  pinkish  and  faded-looking  little 
man  with  the  air  of  an  elderly  beau — quite  unimpres 
sive  from  a  distance,  but  able  in  the  intercourse  of 
closer  acquaintance  to  rise  out  of  the  common  by  the 
suavity  and  grace  of  bearing,  the  nice  adjustment  of 
deference  and  power,  the  facility  and  flexibility  which 
is  acquired  in  long  experience  at  courts,  embassies 
and  legations. 

"  I  '5  see  you  in  a  moment,"  said  Tyson  to  the 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


others  as  he  nodded  and  passed  them  to  receive  his 
lordship,  who  rose  from  his  chair  and  smiled  on  him 
over  a  voluminous  scarf  of  creamy  satin,  in  which 
glimmered  an  enormous  pearl — smiled  with  a  smile 
that  was  partly  apologetic  and  partly  interrogative. 
The  voluminous  scarf  and  the  high-waisted  frock 
coat  of  much  fullness  across  the  chest  gave  him  the 
swelling  front  of  a  pouter  pigeon. 

"  This  is  quite  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment.  I 
trust  that  it  does  not  inconvenience  you  in  any 
way  ?  " 

And  being  assured  that  Tyson  was  very  glad  to  see 
him  he  sat  down  again  without  any  visible  haste  to 
reveal  the  object  of  his  visit.  That  there  was  an 
object  Tyson  suspected,  but  he  could  not  be  sure  of 
its  nature,  though  in  all  probability  it  had  something 
to  do  with  Sheba.  He  knew  that  diplomacy  is  de 
liberate,  and  seldom  takes  a  straight  path,  except 
when  it  is  tired,  but  he  could  not  believe  that  Lord 
Homer  had  honoured  him  with  this  visit  to  enquire 
about  his  health  and  Lady  Cheam  and  Culvercombe, 
or  for  the  purpose  of  a  discursive  commentary  on  the 
peculiarities  of  America  and  the  political  and  social 
relations  of  England  and  the  United  States.  A  com 
mentary  of  that  kind  occupied  several  distracted 
minutes. 

Tyson  had  long  ago  given  up  his  attempts  to  insist 
on  his  nationality,  and  when  Lord  Romer  spoke  of 
Americans  to  him  as  "  you "  he  let  it  go  without 
protest. 

"  We  have  given  you  your  laws  and  all  the  essen 
tial  features  of  your  government.  All  that  a  child 
can  ever  owe  to  its  parents  you  owe  us.  And  now, 
speaking  of  Culvercombe  and  the  country,  we  are 

249 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


teaching  you  the  charms  of  country  life  which  you, 
personally,  so  much  appreciate.  I  understand  that 
you  have  country  clubs  everywhere,  and  that  you  are 
building  country  houses  on  such  a  scale  of  magni 
ficence  that  before  long  our  Arundels,  our  Chats- 
worths,  our  Welbecks  and  our  Eaton  Halls  will  look 
paltry." 

Tyson  acquiesced  in  monosyllables  without  adding 
from  his  own  knowledge  or  opinions  to  the  conver 
sation.  His  visitor  continued  to  smile  blandly  and 
to  talk  slowly,  as  if  parleying  and  waiting  for  an  op 
portunity.  He  had  an  inexplicable  feeling  that  Lord 
Komer  was  expectant — that  he  had  come  for  some 
information  and  was  undecided  as  to  the  tactics  by 
which  he  might  secure  it.  In  the  pauses  Tyson  could 
see  the  interrogation  grow  under  the  smile  in  his 
lordship's  face,  and  was  conscious,  too,  of  an  effort  at 
penetration  competing  with  his  own.  Could  it  be 
possible  that  the  visit  had  something  to  do  with 
Mary? 

"  Then  you  have  invented  a  new  diplomacy,  and 
practise  it  through  very  remarkable  men,  who  have 
an  instinct  for  it  even  when  they  lack  what  we  call 
training,"  Lord  Eomer  proceeded.  "  I  had  the  pleas 
ure  of  knowing  your  representative  at  Teheran  many, 
many  years  ago.  I  think  he  came  from  Texas  or 
Arkansas — a  diamond  in  the  rough.  Perhaps  he  was 
open  to  the  criticism  of  being  what  might  be  called 
— ah, — ah — uncouth  :  indeed  if  my  memory  is  not  at 
fault  that  adjective  was  applied  to  him — not  by  me, 
no,  not  by  me  ! — more  than  once.  From  his  conver 
sation  one  would  have  taken  him  for  an  entirely  un 
educated  man,  but  his  despatches,  I  assure  you,  would 
have  done  honour  by  the  perfection  of  their  style  to 

250 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Edmund  Burke.  He  was  an  admirable  classical 
scholar,  and  an  authority  on  constitutional  history  and 
law,  and — ah — he  invariably  carried  his  point  in  the 
little  controversies  between  us  that  were  on  our  part 
wholly  tentative  and  amiable.  We  must  never  lose 
sight  of  our  kinship  and  its  claims.  Yes,  I  believe 
you  have  a  great  many  men  like  that,  especially  in 
the  South  and  West." 

Tyson  was  aware  that  he  was  being  eyed  narrowly 
in  an  anticipation  of  more  than  the  brief  replies  he 
made. 

"  Perhaps  jour  most  salient  characteristic  is 
aplombe.  It  is  very  noticeable  in  your  women,  and 
only  in  a  lesser  degree  among  your  men.  And,  if  I 
may  do  so — if  I  may — ah — ta&e  the  liberty  paren 
thetically — I  may  say  that  it  is  one  of  the  qualities  I 
admire  in  you." 

"  It  ?s  one  of  the  last  things  I  'd  claim  for  myself, 
Lord  Komer,"  Tyson  demurred  with  a  shy  smile, 
wishing  as  he  spoke  that  his  interlocutor  would  come 
a  little  nearer  to  his  goal. 

"  Ah,  but — !  Now  your  friend  Senator  Plant,  I 
wish  to  express  to  you  my  most  sincere  condolences. 
He  must  have  been  a  man  of  remarkable  native  ge 
nius." 

The  past  tense  was  lost  on  Tyson,  who  answered, 
"  Yes,  the  Senator 's  as  smart  as  a  steel  trap — owes 
nothing  to  anybody,  except  himself.  First  crossed 
the  plains  in  a  prairie  schooner  from  St.  Joe,  before 
the  railroad,  and  rose  step  by  step  by  his  own  abilities. 
Oh,  yes,  the  Senator  is  nothing  less  than  a  genius." 

"  Is  f  "  repeated  Lord  Homer,  revealing  increasing 
bewilderment. 

There  was  another  pause,  in  which  he  groped  with 

251 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

his  hands  as  though  feeling  his  way  through  dark 
ness. 

"  Ah !  "  he  gasped,  with  sudden  illumination, "  You 
have  not  heard.  .  .  .  But  surely  you  have  seen 
the  morning  papers  ? " 

"The  morning  papers?  What 'sin  the  morning 
papers  ?  " 

Lord  Homer's  inability  to  control  his  agitation 
startled  Tyson,  who  now  strode  over  to  the  news 
stand  at  the  other  side  of  the  hall. 

"  You  will  find  it  in  The  Times,  but  you  had  better 
get  the  Paris  edition  of  the  New  York  Herald :  it  is 
more  fully  reported  in  that,"  his  lordship  called  after 
him. 

Tyson  opened  the  paper  in  the  middle  and  buried 
his  head  between  the  sheets.  His  other  visitors, 
though  apparently  talking  among  themselves,  had 
been  closely  observing  the  scene,  and  when  his  head 
reappeared  all  the  colour  had  gone  from  his  face,  and 
he  was  shaken  between  a  sob  and  a  groan. 

"  Poor  devil ! "  murmured  Gleg,  abandoning  his 
purpose  and  slipping  away.  "There  was  always 
something  pathetic  about  him,  and  I  quite  liked  him. 
Another  fool  of  time  and  slave  of  circumstance! 
How  many  of  them  there  are ! " 

The  others  remained,  and  watched  Tyson  as  he 
dragged  himself  back  to  Lord  Reiner's  side  and  sat 
there  reading  and  endeavouring  to  grasp  what  he 
read. 

"PANIC  IN  WALL  STKEET"  topped  in  big 
headlines  a  page  description—"  STARTLING  COL 
LAPSE  IN  MINING  SECURITIES  "  came  lower 
down,  "SENSATIONAL  DROP  IN  SHEBA"  ap 
peared  near  the  bottom. 

252 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


It  was  to  this  subdivision  of  the  matter  that  he 
bent  his  eyes  with  his  glasses  almost  touching  the 
print.  The  veins  across  his  temples  quivered  like 
ropes  under  a  strain.  He  could  feel  his  heart  rattling 
and  rising  in  his  throat.  The  floor  was  slippery  un 
der  his  feet. 

"  Again  it  has  been  proved,"  he  read,  "  that  a 
pyramid  built  from  an  inverted  base  is  bound  to 
tumble.  All  conservative  opinion  was  against  the 
kiting  which  has  characterized  the  market  for  the 
last  six  months.  The  day  of  reckoning  was  delayed, 
but  it  was  inevitable.  .  .  ." 

The  reporter  was  prolix  and  prefaced  his  narrative 
with  wordy  approbation  of  his  paper's  foresight  and 
warnings.  Why  couldn't  reporters  report  instead 
of  airing  their  opinions  ?  Tyson  read  through  the 
verbiage.  .  .  .  Ah,  here  in  the  familiar  jargon 
of  "  the  street "  was  what  he  wanted — wanted  ! — 

"  Though  the  whole  market  suffered,  the  weakest 
stock  on  the  list  was  Sheba  Mining,  which  opening 
at  57  fell  rapidly  to  10,  where  it  closed.  The  strike 
of  the  miners  following  the  accident  to  the  smelter 
and  the  destructive  fire,  and  that  so  close  on  the 
heels  of  the  Supreme  Court's  decision  making  the  in 
junction  procured  by  Messrs.  Dougherty  and  Pewster 
permanent,  gave  the  bears  every  opportunity  to  do 
what  they  pleased  with  the  stock.  Strong  support 
appeared  early  in  the  raid,  but  when  the  sudden 
death  of  Senator  Plant  was  rumoured  it  sagged  again, 
breaking  5  and  6  points  between  sales.  With  the 
confirmation  of  the  rumour  of  the  distinguished  states 
man's  demise  the  stock  again  became  badly  de 
moralized." 

Tyson  tumbled  back  in  his  chair,  and  lay  there 

253 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


limp  and  dazed  with  a  parched  mouth  and  unseeing 
eyes.  Lord  Komer  fluttered  over  him  with  an  anxi 
ety  that  was  not  wholly  selfish. 

"  A  great  blow,  of  course.  I  had  assumed  that 
you  knew,  and  I  can  assure  you — indeed  I  trust  it  is 
unnecessary  to  do  so — that  otherwise  I  should  not 
have  ventured  to  intrude  on  you  so  early  in  the  morn 
ing.  You  have,  of  course,  my  fullest  and  deepest 
sympathy." 

His  lordship  stammered  and  shuffled  his  feet  and 
gently  swayed  his  body  in  unwonted  perturbation. 

"  Yes — ah — er — my  call  was  quite  informal,  quite 
— I  merely  desired  to  express  my  sympathy,  but 
now  that  I  am  here — ah — ah — er — er — er — might  I, 
may  I — er — inquire — " 

Tyson  was  deep  in  the  paper  again :  "  The  Senator 
appeared  to  be  in  his  usual  health  and  spirits  in  the 
morning,  but  as  he  was  leaving  his  house  at  noon  for 
the  Executive  Mansion,  where  he  expected  to  see 
the  President  on  a  matter  connected  with  the  irriga 
tion  bill,  his  coachman  saw  him  fall  on  the  steps,  and 
before  the  man  could  reach  him  he  had  expired." 

Tyson  looking  up  out  of  mist  and  confusion,  slowly 
became  conscious  of  his  visitor  standing  over  him  and 
twirling  a  very  glossy  hat  in  his  grey-gloved  hand. 

"Er — er,  yes,  as  I  was  saying,  I  must  be  going, 
but  now  that  I  am  here  may  I  ask — ?  Is  the  stock 
that  you  so  very  kindly  recommended  to  us  likely  to 
recover  ? " 

"  Recommended  ? " 

Tyson  threw  back  the  word  with  a  fierce  challenge 
in  his  tone  and  glance. 

"Well,  not  in  so  many  words,  but — and  it  was 
most  kind  of  you — we  gathered — and — er,  we  had  so 

254 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


much  confidence  in  you.  It  comes  at  a  most  unfor 
tunate  time  for  us.  If  you  could,  now  if  you  could 
give  me  some  assurance !  Lady  Homer  is  in  a  deli 
cate  state  of  health,  and  our  Irish  rents,  on  which  we 
have  always  depended — you  know  what  Irish  rents 
are.  They  are,  if  you  will  pardon  a  vulgarism,  like 
prizes  at  the  top  of  a  greased  pole." 

"  Look  here,  Lord  Komer,  neither  you  nor  any 
body  else  bought  that  stock  on  my  recommendation." 

"Eh ? "  His  lordship's  body  stiffened  and  his  face 
fell. 

"  But,"  said  Tyson,  "  you  sha'  n't  lose  if  you  think 
that  I  am  in  any  way  responsible." 

His  lordship's  bosom  swelled  again,  and  he  gave 
Tyson  a  mollified  bow  so  pregnant  at  the  hinges 
that  its  deference  would  have  flattered  the  most 
punctilious  of  monarchs. 

"  Yery — very — most  honourable  of  you !  Precisely 
what  I  had  every  reason  to  anticipate,"  he  declared, 
and  in  a  slightly  anxious  voice,  "  Then  it  will  re 
cover  ? " 

«  You  sha'  n't  lose." 

"  Thanks,  thanks." 

He  made  a  motion  to  go,  but  lingered  for  another 
question.  "  Of  course  it  is  impossible  to  realize  on 
it  immediately.  If  that  could  be  done  it  would  help 
us  more  than  I  can  bring  myself  to  say.  Sir  Wil 
liam  Pontifex  thinks  it  important  that  Lady  Homer 
should  be  relieved  of  all  worry,  and  go  south. 
Really  these  doctors  are  the  most  tyrannical  of  men 
nowadays." 

Tyson  curled  his  lips,  and  rose.  "Send  me  the 
certificate  to-day,  and  you  shall  have  a  check  at 
once." 

255 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Ah,  but  to  sell  it  at  current  prices !  That  is  what 
disturbs  me — that  would  be  a  grievous  sacrifice!" 

"  I  do  n't  mean  that.  I  '11  give  you  what  you  paid 
for  it.  Good  morning,  Lord  Romer" — and  that 
gentleman  with  further  apologies  on  his  lips  and  a 
succession  of  bows  glided  through  the  door. 

A  board  across  the  room  was  reserved  for  the  dis 
play  of  the  sailing  bulletins  of  the  transatlantic  liners, 
and  as  Tyson  started  to  consult  it  his  other  visitors 
intercepted  him. 

"  Hello !  you  here,  too ! "  he  cried  with  a  suspicion 
of  their  object.  "  You  must  wait.  Yes,  you  're  very 
good  to  be  sorry,  but — you  must  wait." 

They  reseated  themselves  while  he  read  the  bulle 
tins.  Wednesday's  steamer  had  gone,  and  the  next 
one  would  not  sail  for  three  days — not  until  Saturday. 
He  rushed  to  the  telegraph  office,  and  despatched 
long  cablegrams  to  Nona  and  to  the  mines.  Could 
he  do  anything,  he  asked  himself  bitterly,  that  would 
not  miscarry  and  prove  to  be  a  mistake  ?  Saturday 
seemed  unbearably  far  off  to  him,  and  what  had  hap 
pened  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  ago — the  re 
velations  of  Lord  Romer — reverberated  through  him 
from  a  distance,  like  an  explosion  that  jars  and  deafens 
without  being  seen. 

The  fog  had  found  its  way  into  the  hotel,  and 
every  object  looked  blurred,  dematerialized  and  out 
of  its  customary  place. 

"  So  sorry,  old  man !  Is  there  anything  in  the 
world  we  can  do  for  you  ? "  said  one  of  the  callers  as 
both  of  them  pressed  forward  with  outstretched 
hands. 

"  You  've  not  had  luncheon  yet.  Come  over  to  the 
Carlton  with  us,"  said  the  other. 

256 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Tyson  shook  his  head ;  he  was  not  hungry  ;  he  had 
too  much  to  do ;  they  must  excuse  him. 

"  Er — er — what  are  we  to  do  about  it  ? "  bleated 
the  first.  "I  would  not  speak  of  it  for  worlds, 
but  the  fact  is  that  I  put  every  penny  I  could  lay 
my  hands  on  in  it  simply  because  I  had  such  confi 
dence  in  you." 

"  I  never  took  a  '  flyer '  in  my  life  before,"  said  the 
second,  "  but  when  I  happened  to  overhear  you  say 
one  day  at  Culvercombe  that  (I  could  n't  help  hear 
ing  you,  you  know)  that  Sheba  was  not  going  any 
lower  this  year  I  thought  that  if  you  who  are  so  re 
ticent  could  speak  like  that  it  must  be  as  safe  as  the 
Bank  of  England." 

"  You  are  deluded  as  to  my  liability  in  the  matter, 
but  how  many  shares  have  you  got  ? "  Tyson  de 
manded  sharply. 

"  Only  one  hundred." 

"  And  you  ?  "  to  the  other. 

"  The  same  number." 

"  And  what  did  you  pay  for  them." 

"  Forty.    We  both  bought  at  the  same  time." 

"  Yery  well,  I  '11  protect  you  from  loss.  What  you 
paid  for  them  I  '11  give  you.  Anything  else  ?  Be 
quick ! " 

They  exchanged  glances,  congratulatory  and  in 
terrogative,  before  they  joined  in  thanks.  "  Are  we 
to  infer  that  you  will  give  us  forty  for  them  at 
once?" 

"  That 's  it, "  Tyson  replied  with  a  spurt  of  temper. 
"  They  are  selling  at  ten,  but  I  '11  give  you  forty  for 
them  so  that  your  confidence  in  me  need  not  suffer. 
I  like  to  have  the  good  opinion  of  fellows  like  you." 

His  sarcasm  surprised  them  for  a  moment,  but 

Q  257 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


they  reasoned  that  as  he  had  yielded  so  much  more 
than  they  had  any  right  to  claim  his  generosity 
might  go  further. 

"  Er,  yes,  we  paid  forty  for  them,  but — er — er — 
they  have  been,  you  know,  as  high  as  57." 

"  So  they  have !  Perhaps  you  d  rather  keep  them 
till  they  reach  57  again.  I  'm  going  to  keep  mine." 

"  You  are  awfully  good,  old  man,"  said  the  spokes 
man  hastily,  "  but — er — never  mind  the  difference — 
we'll  take  forty,  thanks,  though — er — of  course, 
there  has  been  nothing  in  it  for  us." 

"  Ah,  that 's  so  often  the  way  in  the  stock  market, 
Keep  out  of  it.  Good-bye." 

He  put  his  hat  on,  and  hurried  off  to  Trafalgar 
Square  to  engage  his  passage  and  send  more  tele 
grams,  while  they  sauntered  out  of  the  hotel  into 
the  Strand  and  reviewed  their  conversation  with 
him. 

"  We  came  off  better  than  I  expected,  eh ! " 

"  Oh,  considering  the  circumstances  he  couldn't 
have  done  less.  If  he  had  n't  spoken  so  positively 
at  Culvercombe  I  should  n't  have  touched  it.  Er,  I 
wonder  if  he  has  got  anything  up  his  sleeve  ?  That 
kind  of  a  fellow  usually  has." 

"  A  bit  of  a  bounder,  after  all,  eh  ? " 

"  Quite  so.  Let 's  drop  in  on  Pewster.  He  was 
very  civil  when  I  called  the  other  day  and  seems 
always  ready  to  give  any  information  he  has." 

In  a  few  minutes  Tyson  returned  to  the  hotel  and 
leaving  orders  at  the  office  that  he  was  not  to  be  dis 
turbed  dropped  into  a  chair  and  feverishly  tore  open 
the  letters  and  telegrams  that  lay  on  the  table  in  his 
sitting-room. 

He  picked  out  those  from  America,  and  when  he 

258 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


had  glanced  at  them  let  them  lie  in  his  lap  while  he 
stared  at  the  ceiling.  They  only  confirmed  what  the 
papers  had  told  him.  The  mine  was  in  "  a  bad  way," 
and  the  Senator  was  dead — the  Senator  whom  he 
loved,  the  gentle  affectionate  old  man  who  had 
straightened  the  path  to  success  for  him.  That  was 
the  blow  that  hurt,  and  that  fell  again  and  again, 
thudding  within  him  and  booming  in  his  ears  like 
the  hoarse  murmur  of  the  sea  in  a  hollow  cliff — they 
had  been  comrades  so  long  and  the  Senator  had  al 
ways  been  so  kind — like  a  father,  or  an  elder  brother ! 
And  Nona,  poor  Nona,  who  had  been  wrapped  up 
in  her  father,  his  inseparable  companion — she  was 
brave,  she  was  full  of  resources,  she  had  spirit  and 
courage  and  strength  of  will,  but  alone  in  this  sudden 
grief,  how  could  she  bear  it  without  some  one  to 
speak  to  her,  to  console  her,  some  one  who  could 
either  speak,  or  being  silent  comprehend?  His  con 
science  goaded  him,  and  he  upbraided  himself  un 
sparingly — he  should  have  been  at  home  now,  and 
ready  in  the  emergency  to  show  his  gratitude  and 
give  loving  service  for  the  love  that  had  been  given 
him.  Her  voice  called  to  him,  and  her  voice  was 
soft,  but  the  dreary,  grey  sea  was  between  them, — 
league  beyond  league  of  melancholy  ocean  moaning 
and  tossing  under  the  whips  of  the  screaming  wind. 
...  He  ran  his  finger  through  the  sailings  again, 
but  there  was  nothing  for  three  days,  and  the  three 
days  stretched  before  him  endlessly. 

He  hardly  gave  a  thought  to  the  loss  of  money  and 
the  consequences  of  that,  except  when  he  remembered 
Mary  and  the  effect  it  might  have  on  the  promises 
he  had  made  her.  Whence  now  could  come  the 
white  fleet  of  salvage  ships,  and  that  Jacobean  house 

259 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


with  its  glittering  oriels  and  bays,  its  many  gables 
and  balustraded  terraces.  He  smiled  mirthlessly  as 
one  smiles  at  a  dream,  but  was  so  full  of  faith  in 
her  that  he  thrust  away  from  him  all  fear  of  change 
in  her — all  uncertainty  as  to  the  constancy  of  her 
friendship  in  the  face  of  adversity.  But — ought  not 
all  desire  in  that  direction  to  be  resisted  ?  W  ould 
not  a  further  pursuit  be  selfish — to  her  disadvantage  ? 
Was  not  renunciation  the  only  course  that  would  be 
just  to  her  and  honourable  to  him  ?  .  .  .  All  other 
griefs  dwindled  in  the  great  and  incomprehensible 
vacancy  that  opened  around  him  and  benumbed  him 
by  its  chill  and  silence  and  gloom. 

When  he  had  written  some  letters  he  went  out 
and  wandered  aimlessly  through  the  dark  streets — 
through  Soho  towards  Oxford  Street,  and  back  again 
through  St.  Giles  and  Drury  Lane — westward  to 
Westminster,  and  through  the  Park  to  Piccadilly. 
Under  the  hoofs  and  wheels  the  joints  in  the  wooden 
pavement  spurted  mud  across  the  sidewalks;  the 
lamps  flared  in  patches;  the  horses  slipped  and 
stumbled  on  the  greasy  surfaces,  and  the  steam 
ing  bars  of  the  public  houses  which  abutted  even  on 
the  precincts  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament  and  the 
Abbey,  and  reached  with  their  strong  blaze  the  effi 
gies  of  saints  and  kings  in  the  niches,  overflowed  with 
dram-drinkers — both  men  and  women  in  noisy  argu 
ment,  or  humped  sullenly  in  corners  apart,  trie  men 
hulking  and  blear-eyed,  and  the  women  in  the  tawdry 
finery  of  their  occupation  or  in  the  crumpled  black 
that  goes  with  the  skirts  of  dingy  respectability.  Here 
and  there  in  the  tiled  and  panelled  vestibules  children 
waited  and  played,  or  curled  up  in  sleep.  Shivering 
newsboys  were  calling  the  results  of  the  races.  "  Win- 

260 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


ner ! — Winner  ! — Winner ! "  That  is  a  familiar  cry  at 
all  hours  in  London.  The  scene  was  more  dismaying 
than  Wakeport,  for  the  contrasts  of  splendour  and 
squalor  were  greater.  The  fog  seemed  tangible ;  it 
could  be  tasted  and  smelled  ;  it  dripped  from  eaves, 
walls,  doors  and  windows  like  ram  before  it  was 
churned  into  the  slippery  paste  of  the  streets.  The 
whole  city  looked  as  ii  it  had  risen  from  the  bed  of  a 
slimy  river.  Clocks  in  towers  and  steeples  chimed 
the  quarters,  with  a  separate  stave  for  each :  "  Lord, 
through  this  hour  be  thou  our  guide,  so  by  thy  power 
no  foot  may  slide." 

*##-fc#-3f** 

Tyson  returned  to  the  hotel  to  prepare  for  an  early 
start  to  the  Isle  of  Wight  in  the  morning  and  a  fare 
well  to  Culvercombe,  but  he  was  kept  awake  by  the 
phantasmagoria  of  the  day,  and  he  groped  in  the 
dark  to  find  the  truth  of  things. 


261 


How  Tyson  Came  Home. 


Chapter  XXIII.     In  which  there  are 
Gathering  Clouds. 


H 


E  reached  Culvercombe  before  one 
o'clock  the  next  day,  and  when  he  ar 
rived  the  house  seemed  curiously  silent. 
Brixton  and  Prawle  came  out  to  meet  him 
at  the  porch  and  gravely  followed  him 
with  his  luggage  upstairs  to  his  rooms 
in  the  wing,  which  on  one  side  gave  him  a  view  of 
the  wooded  cliff  and  the  sea,  and  on  the  other  re 
ceived  light  and  ventilation  from  an  interior  court 
formed  by  the  domestic  offices — the  pantry,  the 
kitchens,  the  still-room,  the  harness  room,  and  the 
coachman's  and  the  gardener's  cottages,  behind  which 
the  cliff  rose  in  rough-edged  vertical  layers. 
"  Lady  Cheam  ? "  he  inquired. 
"  Her  ladyship 's  in,  sir.  Would  you  like  to  see 
her  ladyship  ? " 

"  No,  never  mind.    Do  n't  disturb  her.    Mr.  Ju 
lian  ? " 

"  I  believe  he 's  in,  top,  sir.     Shall  I  tell  him,  sir  ? " 
"  No,  I  wish  to  be  quiet.     I  shall  not  come  down  to 
luncheon.     Bring  me  a  glass  of  sherry  and  a  biscuit. 
That 'sail  I  want." 

262 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


11  Nothing  else,  sir  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  thank  you.  You  need  n't  mind  that," 
he  added,  seeing  that  Prawle  proposed  to  remain 
and  unpack  his  dressing-bag  and  portmanteau. 

"  Yery  good,  sir." 

But  the  men  were  slow  in  going,  and  as  they  lin 
gered  at  the  half-opened  door,  Tyson  saw  Prawle 
elbow  Brixton  back  into  the  room  while  he  himself 
stood  outside.  Brixton  hastened  towards  the  dressing- 
table  on  the  pretence  of  picking  up  a  brush  that  had 
slipped  to  the  floor,  and  then  stammered,  "  Excuse 
me,  sir,  but  this  is  bad  news,  very  bad  news,  aint  it, 
sir?" 

"  Oh,"  said  Tyson,  "  you  've  seen  the  papers,  have 
you?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  it  quite  turned  my  stomach.  But  for 
a  drop  of  brandy  as  Prawle  fortanitly  'ad  at  'and  I 
should  have  collapsed  quite  when  I  'eard  it.  It  quite 
took  the  ground  from  under  me,  I  assure  you  it  did, 
sir." 

Brixton's  face  was  red,  and  from  his  breath  it  was 
inferable  that  the  news  had  just  come  to  him,  and  that 
more  than  one  "drop,"  which  is  simply  an  elastic 
figure  of  refined  speech  in  England,  had  been  admin 
istered  to  steady  him. 

"You felt  like  that,  did  you?  Well,  that's  very 
kind  of  you,  Brixton, — very.  One  does  n't  always 
find  one's  friends  in  the  places  where  they  are  ex 
pected  when  luck  is  bad,  eh  ?  They  have  a  queer  way 
of  vanishing,  do  n't  they  ?  Thank  you  for  feeling  as 
you  do." 

Still  Brixton  did  not  go. 

"  I  'ope  it  aint  as  bad  as  the  papers  say,  sir." 

"I've  lost  the  best  friend  I  had  in  the  world." 

263 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Ah,  that  is  bad !  A  very  pleasant  gentleman  he 
was,  I '  ve  'eard.  Mr.  Julian  was  speaking  of  him  only 
last  night  at  dinner,  and  was  telling  Laoy  Wringcliff 
some  comical  stories  about  him." 

Tyson  glanced  at  him  suspiciously  and  began  to 
edge  him  toward  the  door,  but  his  garrulity  flowed 
on.  u  Ah,  sir,  I  do  feel  for  you !  He  must  be  a  loss 
to  you,  that  he  must." 

"  One  of  nature's  noblemen,"  Tyson  said. 

"  Was  he  now !  I  Ve  'eard  of  them,  sir,  but  I  never 
'ad  the  pleasure  of  being  in  the  service  of  any  of  that 
sort.'1 

"  No,"  said  Tyson,  forced  to  smile.  "  Somehow 
nature's  noblemen  do  n't  usually  keep  butlers." 

He  had  succeeded  in  getting  the  old  man  to  the 
threshold,  and  there  both  of  them  took  hold  of  a 
handle  of  the  door,  Tyson  on  the  inside  and  Brixton 
on  the  outside. 

"  But  it  was  n't  exactly  about  'im — Senator  Plant, 
I  believe  'is  name  was — as  I  wished  to  speak  about. 
If  I  may  make  so  free,  sir,  it  was  about  them  shares. 
It 's  pretty  hard  on  us,  you  can't  deny  that,  sir,  can 
you  now?*" 

"  You ! — shares ! "  repeated  Tyson  in  amazement. 

"  Yes,  sir,  we  'veall  got  a  few  of  them — me,  Prawle, 
the  housekeeper,  the  coachman,  her  ladyship's  woman 
and—" 

"Fools!— what  fools!" 

He  pushed  the  door  angrily,  but  Brixton  gently 
prevented  him  from  shutting  it. 

"  'Ow  can  you  blame  us,  sir  ?  It  was  like  con-ta-gi- 
on  all  over  the  'ouse — in  the  servants'  'all  as  well  as 
upstairs, — low  as  well  as  'igh.  After  the  bishop  had 
been  here  her  ladyship  would  n't  allow  us  to  have 

264 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


anything  on  the  'osses  any  more,  and  'ow  could  we 
help  it,  'earing  of  it  all  day  long,  as  it  were,  until  the 
very  rooks  in  the  trees  and  smaller  birds  seemed  to 
be  saying  *  Sheba — Sheba,'  not  to  mention  others — 
'ow  could  we  help  it,  sir  ?  Why  it  was  like  onions 
all  over  the  'ouse. 

He  saw  the  wavering  look  in  Tyson's  face,  and  ex 
cused  himself  as  he  took  his  hand  off  the  door  knob. 
"  And  if  I  may  take  the  liberty,"  he  wheedled,  "  we 
all  'ad  such  confidence  in  you — it  was  like  as  if  you  'd 
promised  it — quite  like  that.  I  says  to  the  house 
keeper,  'is  word's  'is  bond,'  I  says  to  her.  'I'd 
trust  'im  with  my  last  penny.'  " 

Tyson  pondered  before  saying,  "  And  what  do  you 
expect  me  to  do?" 

"What's  fair,  sir.  I  am  sure  we  don't  have  to 
mention  it,  sir — I  leave  it  to  you." 

"  Very  well,"  Tyson  decided.  « I  '11  do  the  same 
by  you  that  I  have  done  by  some  others  who  are  per 
haps  less  deserving.  You  say  you  had  confidence  in 
me — that 's  flattering.  You  can  bring  all  your  shares 
— the  housekeeper's,  the  maid's,  Prawle's,  the  garden 
er's,  everybody's — bring  them  all  up  here  to  me  before 
dinner,  and  I  '11  give  you  the  money  for  them — the 
money !  Yes,  cash.  I  '11  go  to  Yentnor  this  afternoon 
and  get  the  money  from  the  bank.  Now  you  can 
go." 

And  closing  the  door  on  Brixton's  gratitude,  he 
said  to  himself,  "  They  ought  n't  to  suffer  anyhow — 
but  who  'd  have  thought  it  ?  I  wonder  how  many 
more  there  are?  It's  been  a  <  con-ta-gi-on ',  sure 
enough.  I  did  n't  know  that  I  was  so  dangerous." 

Busy  as  he  was  in  his  preparations  for  nis  leave- 
taking  the  silence  that  had  struck  him  on  entering  the 

265 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


house  continued  to  haunt  him  with  premonitions  of 
changes  and  disturbances  in  normal  conditions.  It 
gave  the  impression  of  that  hush  which  precedes  a 
storm — of  the  world  holding  its  breath  and  folding 
its  wings  in  suspense.  The  sounds  from  without 
seemed  to  come  from  within.  The  gurgling  of  the 
sea,  the  twitter  of  the  robins  and  sparrows,  the 
monotonous  scolding  of  the  rooks,  the  grating  of  the 
skid  on  the  wheels  of  an  occasional  vehicle  slowly 
descending  the  steep  lane  beyond  the  lodge,  and  the 
thud  of  the  screws  of  the  small  steamers  that  ven 
tured  close  inshore  under  the  cliff,  had  the  effect 
of  being  as  near  and  as  intimate  as  the  clock  in 
the  hall. 

Later  on,  while  he  was  sorting  the  contents  of  his 
despatch  box,  he  heard  bickering  voices  in  Lady 
Wrmgcliffs  rooms,  and  could  distinguish  Lady 
Cheam's  and  Julian's  rising  and  falling  in  protest  and 
contradiction  while  Lady  W  ringcliff  herself  now  and 
then  intervened  with  a  word  and  a  dry,  unfeeling 
laugh.  A  girPs  voice  could  also  be  heard  in  low, 
frightened  whispers  and  (this  was  distinct)  a  choking 
sob. 

The  door  across  the  corridor  opened,  and  the  girl 
came  out,  weeping  now  with  uncontrollable  violence, 
her  sobs  echoing  all  along  the  passage  as  she  retreated. 
Her  grief  was  so  great  that  he  could  not  resist  in 
quiry.  "  What  Js  the  matter  ?  What 's  the  matter  ? " 
he  called  after  her,  but  she  disappeared  down  the 
backstairs  without  hearing  him  or  heeding  him.  It 
was  Lady  Wringcliff's  maid,  the  girl  he  had  seen  on 
the  bench  at  the  edge  of  the  cliffs. 

Presently  Julian  Knocked  at  his  door  and  came  in 
rather  sheepishly. 

266 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  Hello  !  "  said  Tyson,  glancing  at  him  briefly  and 
immediately  resuming  a  letter  on  which  he  was  en 
gaged,  "  I  '11  see  you  later,  Julian.  I  'm  off  on  Sat 
urday." 

Julian  had  the  drowsy,  worn  look — the  sunken 
eyes  and  the  bluish  furrows  under  them — that  had 
come  into  his  face  since  his  return  from  America. 
Uninvited  he  threw  himself  into  a  chair.  "  I  wanted 
to  tell  you  how  very  sorry  we  all  are,"  he  said.  "  Julia 
is  quite  upset  about  it." * 

"  Yes,"  replied  Tyson  curtly.  "  The  blow  is  hard  ; 
it  has  stunned  me.  I  feel  as  I  fancy  the  dead  must 
feel  before  they  know  just  where  they  are." 

"  I  know,  I  know  !  I  understand.  What  a  spec 
tacle  for  the  amusement  of  the  gods  life  is !  How 
they  laugh  at  us  from  their  thrones,  and  what  fine 
sport  they  have  in  making  dice  of  such  men  as  we 
are ! " 

"  Anything  new  at  Culvercombe  ?  "  Tyson  asked 
seeing  that  Julian  did  not  perceive  that  his  presence 
was  inconvenient,  and  intended  to  remain. 

"  Ah — well — er — I  'in  in  hot  water  again." 

"  What 's  the  matter  now  \ " 

Tyson  looked  at  him  without  indulgence. 

"  I  ought  not  to  have  come  here  when  I  came  back 
from  America.  I  never  for  a  moment  supposed  that 
Laura  would  still  have  Morris  with  her." 

"Morris?  What  difference  does  Morris  make? 
That 's  the  girl  who  was  crying  just  now,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

Tyson  spoke  obtusely  and  with  confused  rambling 
thoughts. 

"  Is  n't  she  a  little  beauty  ?  Have  n't  you  noticed 
her  ? "  Julian  went  on,  warming  with  his  descrip 
tion.  "  She  is  the  pure  Saxon  type  that  fascinated 

267 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


the  worldly  eye  of  old  Pope  Gregory  when  the  cap 
tives  from  England  were  led  before  him, — fragrant  as 
honey,  pink  as  roses,  softer  to  the  touch  than  scented 
oil — creatures  especially  planned  to  let  men  know, 
without  puzzling,  what  angels  are." 

Some  of  Julian's  familiar  vivacity  momentarily 
returned  to  him.  He  smiled  and  delivered  his  words 
lightly. 

"  Good  God,"  cried  Tyson,  grasping  at  last  the 
meaning  of  what  he  heard,  and  shrinking  from  it. 
"  You  do  n't  mean  to  tell  me  that  the  girl  is  in  trouble 
through  you  ? " 

He  turned  in  his  chair  and  rose  in  wrath. 

"  Do  n't  be  so  violent,  Jim.  I  intend  to  take  care 
of  her,  though  Julia  must  n't  know  that.  Julia  is  in 
a  rage — I  am  afraid  you  must  have  heard  her — and 
Laura — even  Laura 's  spiteful  about  it.  I  dare  say 
she  is  a  little  jealous.  Laura  has  always  been  very 
fond  of  me." 

He  smiled  again  pensively  and  without  a  touch  of 
remorse.  "  Yes,  I  shall  look  out  for  her,  of  course, 
and  I  wish  that  my  income  would  allow  me  to  do 
more  for  her  than  I  can  in  my  straitened  circum 
stances.  Girls  quickly  recover  from  this  sort  of 
thing,  though  there  is  such  a  lot  of  cant  about  it.  I 
know  a  fellow  who  would  like  her  for  a  model.  He 
is  thinking  of  making  a  picture  of  that  very  scene — 
Pope  Gregory  and  the  English  captives." 

Tyson  glowered  at  him  with  smouldering  indig 
nation  ready  for  bursting  into  flame.  He  restrained 
himself  to  say,  "  Then  this  must  have  begun  before 
you  came  to  America  ? " 

"  Just  before." 

"  You  are  a  scoundrel,"  said  Tyson,  deliberately. 
268 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  I  've  been  disappointed  in  men  before  this,  but  never 
so  much  as  I  am  disappointed  in  you." 

Glynne  now  rose  in  surprise  and  consternation  and 
confronted  him.  He  had  never  imagined  that  Tyson 
would  quarrel  with  him.  There  are  people  in  this 
world  who,  conscious  of  their  powers  of  fascination, 
believe  that  their  ascendency  over  indulgent  friends 
is  secure  for  ever.  This  was  Julian's  attitude  towards 
Tyson. 

"  I  am  a  man  and  not  a  hypocrite,"  he  declared. 
"  Can't  you  be  civil,  if  you  cannot  be  reasonable  ? " 

"  You  are  a  devil ! "  Tyson  thundered,  moving  to 
wards  him  menacingly.  "A  devil,"  he  added, 
mimicking  and  transposing  one  of  Julian's  glib 
phrases,  "  a  devil  especially  planned  to  let  men  know, 
without  puzzling,  wnat  devils  are." 

"  This  is  my  sister's  house,  remember,"  protested 
Julian,  now  white  and  trembling. 

"This  is  my  room — mine!  Leave  it  at  once  or 
I  '11  fling  you  out  of  it." 

Julian  made  an  effort  to  steady  himself  as  he 
sauntered  through  the  door,  but  his  lips  twitched  and 
loose  pulses  throbbed  and  bunched  themselves  in  all 
his  limbs.  The  air  of  defiance  he  attempted  failed  ; 
it  was  pitiful,  almost  ludicrous.  His  feet  dragged 
along  the  floor ;  his  body  shook  ;  his  head  sank  be 
tween  his  shoulders. 

As  Tyson  watched  him  retreat  he  wondered  at  the 
miracle  that  had  transformed  the  debonair  and  bril 
liant  Julian  of  six  months  ago  into  such  a  flabby,  ab 
ject,  skulking  thing  as  this,  and  it  did  not  occur  to 
him  that  the  changes  were  only  on  the  surface  and 
that  the  soul  had  always  been  the  same  in  its  secret 
desires  and  unstable  passions. 

269 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XXIV.    In  which  Tyson  leaves 
Culvercombe 


TYSON  rang  his  bell.  "  Prawle,"  he  said 
when  the  man  answered,  "I  am  going 
away  earlier  than  I  thought — I  am  going 
for  good  to-night.  Just  get  these  things 
of  mine  together  as  soon  as  you  can.  I 
can't  finish  packing  now.  I  'm  going  to 
Ventnor  now,  but  shall  be  back  in  half  an  hour." 

He  went  to  the  bank  in  the  deserted  little  water 
ing  place,  with  its  empty  shops,  lodgings  and  hotels, 
and  unemployed  cabs,  and  drew  sufficient  money  for 
his  journey  and  to  pay  for  the  stock  he  had  promised 
to  take  from  the  servants,  having  already  sent  checks 
to  Lord  Komer  and  the  others. 

He  returned  by  the  path  along  the  chalk  cliffs  and 
went  up  the  hill  by  the  old  church — one  of  the 
earliest  and  smallest  churches  in  England,  a  pleasant 
little  red-tiled  sanctuary  now  abandoned  and  nearly 
hidden  by  vines  and  overhanging  trees.  It  is  a  stiff 
climb  up  the  hill  between  the  ivied  retaining  walls, 
and  farther  on  near  the  new  St.  Boniface,  a  bench 
by  the  roadside  invites  the  climber  to  pause  for  breath. 
Like  the  old  churchyard  the  new  one  is  embowered 

270 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


in  trees  and  flowering  plants,  and  glimpses  of  the  sea 
appear  between  the  branches  of  the  trees  and  the 
banks  of  laurel,  myrtle,  yew,  cedar  and  cypress 
bordering  the  paths  among  the  carefully-tended 
graves. 

As  Tyson  rested  there  the  postman  came  alon^, 
and  touching  his  cap  offered  him  some  letters  in  ad 
vance  of  the  delivery  at  the  house.  That  was  against 
the  rules  of  the  department,  but  rules  do  not  always 
apply  to  free  givers  even  in  England.  Thanking  the 
man  he  took  them  with  him  to  an  alcove  seat  among 
the  dusky  yews  that  separated  the  road  from  the 
churchyard,  and  absently  turned  them  over  with  a 
vague  interest  in  the  postmarks  and  the  addresses. 
He  wondered  whether  the  news  had  reached  Wins- 
bury,  and  whether  Mary  Leigh  would  write  to  him. 
He  was  waiting  to  hear  from  her — so  much  depended 
on  what  she  said,  though  his  more  recent  thought 
of  the  matter  had  not  reversed  his  instinctive  feel 
ing  that  with  his  lessened  means  he  had  lost  any 
little  eligibility  he  had  possessed  as  a  suitor  when  his 
fortune  was  unimpaired.  But  there  was  nothing  from 
her  among  the  letters,  and  none  from  America. 

One  envelope  caught  him  by  its  size  and  weight 
and  the  emblazoned  coat-of-arms  on  the  flap.  He 
could  not  recognize  the  hand,  but  the  postmark  was 
that  of  one  of  the  sub-offices  in  Mayfair.  The  letter 
within  had  for  an  address  "Park  Lane,  W.,"  and 
was  embossed  with  the  same  coat-of-arms  as  the  en 
velope,  from  which  he  turned  with  awakening  curi 
osity  to  the  signature,  "  Algernon  Russell,  Secretary." 

"Sir,"  the  letter  began,  "I  am  desired  by  Mr. 
Pewster  to  inform  you  that  little  as  you  are  entitled 
to  any  consideration  from  him  in  view  of  the  wholly 

271 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


unprovoked  discourtesy  displayed  by  you  on  an  occa 
sion  that  neither  he  nor  you  are  likely  to  have  any 
difficulty  in  recalling,  the  dictates  of  humanity,  and 
a  regard  for  those  amenities  of  life  which  he  can 
hardly  expect  you  to  appreciate  induce  him  to  share 
with  you  some  information  that  came  into  his  pos 
session  less  than  an  hour  ago.  That  his  magnani 
mity—" 

Tyson  could  not  go  any  further  without  laughing. 
His  laugh  was  so  loud  that  a  teamster  on  the  road 
stopped  cracking  his  whip  and  peered  through  the 
yew  hedge. 

— "  That  his  magnanimity  will  be  either  misunder 
stood  by  you,  or  if  not  misunderstood,  unappreciated, 
does  not  deter  him  from  the  course  he  has  generously 
decided  on,  and  to  which  he  is  especially  urged  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  it  involves  others  with  whom 
he  sympathizes  or  against  whom  he  has  no  grievance 
and  no  memory  of  such  insults  as  those  with  which 
you  met  his  friendly  advances  when  you  happened  to 
meet  him  on  his  way  to  Langdale  Hall  as  the  guest 
of  His  Lordship." 

Tyson  paused  again  to  muse  cynically,  "  What 's 
the  matter  with  old  Pewster  now  ?  He  must  have 
swallowed  a  whole  dictionary  and  a  penny  book  of 
polite  letter- writing." 

Then  he  went  on  with  the  secretary's  letter. 

"  While  at  Langdale  Hall  as  Lord  Langdale's  guest," 
the  next  paragraph  opened,  "he  observed  in  the 
newspapers  the  advertisement  of  your  solicitors, 
Messrs.  Leathley,  Leathley  and  Leathley,  offering  a 
reward  for  any  information  concerning  your  sister, 
once  employed  as  a  maid-of-ail-work  by  a  certain 
Mrs.  Twiggs,  formerly  of  Smith  wick  Terrace,  Wake- 

272 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


port.  You  may  remember  you  yourself  had  told  him 
of  that  unfortunate  girl's  unhappy  childhood  (and 
your  own  penury  and  destitution)  at  the  time  when 
he  was  consulting  engineer  of  the  Sheba  mine,  to  the 
success  of  which  property  he  contributed  services  be 
yond  recompense  but  without  recognition — and  he  at 
once  became  interested  in  the  advertisement  and  de 
sirous  of  restoring  her  to  her  proper  guardian." 

A  strange  change  came  over  Tyson's  face  now — 
a  sudden  darkening — a  contraction  of  the  lines — a 
straining  of  the  eyes. 

"What  was  the  matter  with  his  eyes  ?  he  asked  him 
self  anxiously,  as  he  shook  his  head  and  rubbed  his 
glasses. 

The  air  seemed  full  of  motes.  "Was  he  getting 
blind?  Was  it  a  storm  coming  up  that  made  the 
words  indistinct?  How  fast  the  light  was  going! 
He  looked  at  the  sky  to  corroborate  his  impression, 
but  the  sun  was  shining  and  the  only  clouds  visible 
were  as  white  and  as  luminous  as  the  bosoms  of  the 
swans  on  the  pond  of  the  little  village  in  the  hollow 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  The  compact  fringes  of  the 
yew  made  a  dark  shade,  but  why  did  the  words  lose 
their  coherence  and  float  before  him  out  of  their 
phrases  when  he  was  not  looking  at  the  letter  at  all 
but  staring — staring — staring  across  the  graveyard 
to  the  sea  ?  He  must  see  an  oculist  at  once.  *  *  * 
He  read  the  last  paragraph  again. 

"  He  at  once  became  interested  in  the  advertise 
ment  and  desirous  of  restoring  her  to  her  proper  guar 
dian."  Tyson  made  out  that  much,  but  when  he  came 
to  read  the  rest  it  was  like  reading  by  torchlight  in 
a  wind,  and  the  words  crumbled  and  vanished  in 
tangles  of  flame  and  smoke. 
R  273 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Was  he  dreaming  ?  Was  it  day  or  night  ?  His 
eyes  were  half  shut  as  he  screwed  them  over  the  letter 
and  tore  the  heart  oat  of  its  husk. 

"  At  the  present  time  she  is  at  Culvercombe,  and 
Mr.  Pewster  is  gratified  in  being  able  to  inform  you 
that  despite  your  extraordinary  indifference  to  your 
responsibilities  through  so  many  years,  she  holds  the 
humble  though  entirely  respectable  position,  of  maid 
to  Lady  Wringcliff.  After  leaving  the  service  of 
Mrs.  Twiggs  she  found  employment  near  London  in 
the  service  of  an  elderly  widow,  a  Mrs.  Morris,  who 
subsequently  adopted  her,  and  put  her  to  school,  and 
she  is  at  present  known  by  the  name  of  that  benefac 
tor,  whose  charitable  intervention  in  a  crisis  undoubt 
edly  saved  her  from  the  perils  to  which  otherwise  she 
would  have  been  inevitably  exposed  through  the  cal 
lous  and  inexcusable  negligence  of  her  natural  pro 
tector." 

With  the  letter  crumpled  in  his  hand,  Tyson 
bounded  up  the  hill  and  through  the  narrow  lanes, 
up  the  steps  hewn  out  of  the  cliffs  to  a  postern  gate 
at  the  foot  of  the  garden  ;  up  the  mossy  terraces,  and 
across  the  lawn  into  the  empty  entrance  hall. 

"  Morris !  —  Morris !  —  Bessie !  — Bessie !  —  Bessie 
Tyson ! "  he  called  like  a  madman.  "  Lady  Cheam ! 
— Lady  Wringcliff ! — Brixton ! "  and  again  "  Bessie ! 
— Bessie,  where  are  you  ? " 

The  two  ladies  appeared  in  disorder  at  the  head 
of  the  great  stairway,  and  stood  there,  one  panic- 
stricken,  the  other  coolly  observant.  The  servants 
came  running  from  the  rear  of  the  house  and  from 
below.  They  were  all  aghast,  and  thought  that  his 
misfortunes  had  made  a  raving  maniac  of  him.  His 
face  and  voice  were  agonized  as  he  advanced  to  the 

274 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


foot  of  the  stairs  and  stretched  out  appealing  arms  to 
Lady  Cheam  and  Lady  Wringcliff. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  Where  is  she  ? "  he  cried.  "  Mor 
ris?  No,  not  Morris — that's  not  her  name!  Bes 
sie,  my  sister — where  is  she  ?  Let  ine  see  her  at 


once." 


They  could  not  understand,  and  gazed  at  him  in 
bewilderment. 

"I've  had  news,  news,  amazing  news — horrible 
news ! "  he  rapidly  went  on. 

"  I  must  see  her  at  once.  I  must  see  her,  Lady 
Wringcliff !  She  is  my  sister — not  Bessie  Morris, 
but  Bessie  Tyson." 

His  eyes  were  dry,  but  his  body  heaved  in  a  tumult 
of  sobs.  The  ladies  and  the  servants  too  now  ex 
changed  glances  of  comprehension. 

Lady  Wringcliff's  rouged  lips  curled,  and  she 
lighted  one  of  her  cigarettes.  Lady  Cheam  left 
her,  and  came  down  to  Tyson  in  the  nail,  where  he 
had  tottered  to  a  chair.  She  picked  up  one  of  his 
dangling  arms  and  rubbed  his  hand. 

"No,  no!  Don't  touch  me,  Lady  Cheam  !  That 
devil  is  your  brother.  And  see  that  other  devil  on 
the  stairs ! " 

He  gently  took  his  hand  away,  and  breaking  into 
tears  Lady  Cheam  rejoined  her  friend,  who  with  a 
toss  of  the  head,  led  her  upstairs. 

"  Brixton,  Brixton !  Where  is  she — Morris  ?  "  he 
cried  to  the  old  butler,  who  was  ordering  the  other 
servants  out  of  the  hall. 

"  She 's  to  start  in  twenty  minutes,  sir." 

"  What  do  you  mean — to  start — where  to  ?  " 

Brixton  vaguely  passed  his  palm  over  his  mouth  to 
hide  his  embarrassment.  "  Her  boxes  are  on  one  of 

275 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


the  dog-carts,  sir,  and  waiting  for  her  at  the  stable 
door." 

"  She  is  dismissed  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir.  Lad}r  Wringcliff  'as  very  strong  opin 
ions  sometimes  and  is  rather  'arsh  with  the  servants." 

"  Take  her  things  off  the  dog-cart,  and  order  the 
landau  for  me  at  once.  Do  you  hear  ?  The  landau. 
Have  it  at  the  front  door  in  an  hour." 

Brixton  was  more  shocked  than  surprised,  for  there 
was  no  accounting  for  "  these  Americans,"  and  as  he 
was  retiring  Tyson  called  after  him  :  "  She's  not  in 
the  house  ??' 

"  I  dare  say  she  '11  be  back  in  a  minute,  sir.  She 
can't  have  gone  far.  I  saw  her  go  out  by  the  hot 
houses — just  by  Chimney  Steps — not  more  than  five 
minutes  ago." 

Tyson  rushed  through  the  front  door,  across  the 
lawn,  and  up  a  laurel-crowned  knoll  from  the  top  of 
which  there  is  an  extensive  view  of  the  cliffs  drop 
ping  into  the  sea  ;  the  yellow-green  shoulders  of  the 
downs ;  the  winding  road  that  dips  by  the  rectory 
and  the  church  and  the  gates  of  Culvercombe,  and 
the  long  reach  of  the  wooded  undercliff,  which  de 
tached  from  the  higher  precipices  by  natural  forces 
ages  ago  curves  and  undulates  by  village,  glen  and 
garden  to  the  extreme  southwesterly  point  of  the 
island.  Often  before  had  he  sat  up  there  in  unspeak 
able  content  at  sundown — sometimes  with  Mary 
Leigh — to  watch  the  dwindling  lights  glow  in  the 
evening  haze.  There  was  no  beauty  now  of  which 
he  was  conscious,  and  the  one  object  for  which  he 
searched  could  not  be  seen. 

He  ran  down  the  knoll  to  the  back  of  the  house 
and  round  to  the  hothouses  and  the  kitchen  gardens, 

276 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


built  in  tiers  on  the  rough,  galleried  ledges  of  the 
cliff.  Here  he  ascended  the  steps  hewn  in  the  chalk, 
by  which  he  had  seen  Mary  and  the  Bishop  depart 
for  Wroxhall  on  that  well-remembered  morning, 
which  now  seemed  very  far  away.  Up  and  up  he 
went  until  he  gained  the  natural  alcove  curtained  by 
briars  and  vines,  in  which  she  had  rested,  appearing 
in  his  imagination  like  a  saint  in  a  shrine. 

Between  the  gardens  and  a  meadow  there  was  an 
abandoned  tennis  court  hedged  in  by  a  dense  and  high 
growth  of  holly  and  laurel.  It  was  weedy,  dark 
and  damp  and  seldom  visited,  and  moles  and  earth 
worms  had  raised  mounds  and  ridges  in  the  once 
smooth  and  level  turf.  A  rustic  summer-house  stood 
in  a  corner,  the  bark  on  the  boughs  and  the  roots  out 
of  which  it  was  fashioned  hidden  under  grey,  yellow 
and  green  lichens.  The  court  was  directly  under 
Tyson,  and  now  he  could  see  Julian  standing  within 
the  summer  house  and  holding  Bessie  by  the  hand. 
They  were  speaking  in  whispers  and  she  was  wiping 
her  eyes  with  a  wet  and  crumpled  handkerchief. 

A  few  steps  down  and  a  narrow  path  between 
some  holly — steps  taken  quickly — brought  Tyson  to 
an  arch  of  yew,  and  through  that  he  entered  the  court 
and  faced  them. 

Bessie  wore  her  hat  and  was  dressed  in  dark  serge 
for  her  departure.  Julian  was  handing  her  some 
money — a  bank  note — and  she  was  hanging  her  head 
as  he  pressed  it  on  her. 

"  Give  that  back  to  him  !  give  it  back !  "  cried  Ty 
son  springing  towards  them.  Julian  put  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  and  made  an  effort  at  nonchalance. 
The  girl  looked  sulkily  at  Tyson  for  a  moment  and 
then  with  a  guilty  and  perplexed  face  yielded  to 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


his  compulsion  and  let  the  note  fall  to  the  ground. 
She  shrank  in  terror  before  the  rage  which  convulsed 
him,  and  flew  out  through  the  yew  arch  screaming. 
Tyson  picked  up  the  note  and  clenching  it  in  his  hand 
struck  Julian  in  the  face  with  such  a  blow  that  he  fell 
backwards  against  the  rotting,  intertwined  boughs  of 
the  summer  house  and  was  held  there  among  the  splin 
ters  and  thorns  until  his  assailant  dragged  him  out  by 
the  collar  and  flung  him  among  the  weeds  on  the 
turf. 

"  Take  it — take  it  back,  you  abomination ! " 
Tyson  hissed  as  he  ground  the  bank  note  into  the 
blanched  and  scared  face  which  was  turned  up  to  him 
with  a  mute,  bewildered  look  of  appeal. 

Julian  raised  himself  on  his  elbows,  and  Tyson 
threatened  him  again.  "  Lie  there  !  stay  there  ! " 
he  commanded ;  "  never  let  me  see  you  again,  you  cur ! 
nor  enter  Culvercombe  till  I  am  gone." 

"  Explain  !  explain ! "  gasped  Julian.  "  What  is 
it?" 

"  She— she— Bessie  ! " 

Tyson's  voice  was  hoarse,  but  Julian  partly  under 
stood.  "  My  God !  "  he  moaned.  "  How  could  I 
know ! " 

He  was  bleeding,  but  Tyson  was  implacable. 

Tyson  then  hastened  back  to  the  house  and  traced 
Bessie  to  the  room  which  adjoined  Lady  Wringcliff  s 
chamber.  She  tried  to  escape  him  and  fled  to  a  corner, 
but  he  stole  towards  her  soothingly  with  explana 
tion  in  broken  words. 

"  At  last  I  've  found  you,  dear,  after  such  a  weary 
search !  Now  our  troubles  are  ended, — all  this  shall 
be  like  a  dark,  unpleasant  dream.  America  ?s  a  good 
place  for  getting  rid  of  bad  dreams." 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


He  took  her  hand,  but  she  pulled  it  away ;  he 
placed  his  hand  on  her  shoulder,  but  she  still  shrank 
from  him  in  fear  and  strangeness. 

"  I  Jm  going  to  America  the  day  after  to-morrow, 
and  you  are  coming  with  me."  She  sobbed  without 
answering.  "  There  now — there  now  !  "  he  coaxed. 
™  Come  along,  that 's  a  good  girl.  Brixton  told  me 
all  your  things  were  ready,  but  we  must  get  some 
new  ones — plenty  of  new  ones,  if  there  is  time. 
Come  along,  dear,  come  along.  I've  ordered  the 
landau  for  us." 

She  at  last  let  him  take  her  hand,  and  he  led  her 
down  into  the  entrance  hall.  The  laundau  was  at 
the  door,  and  Lady  Wringcliff  in  her  pale  costume 
of  grasshopper  green  was  pulling  on  her  gloves  pre 
paratory  to  entering  it.  She  did  not  appear  to  be 
conscious  of  either  him  or  Bessie,  though  she  bent  her 
head  once  over  her  shoulder  and  coldly  stared  at  them. 
Brixton  was  arranging  the  rugs  and  cushions,  and 
she  moved  towards  the  door  and  raised  her  foot  to 
the  step.  Tyson  advanced  firmly  but  with  as  much 
politeness  as  the  situation  allowed  stood  in  the  way. 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  he  murmured,  looking  at  the  butler. 
"  The  landau  was  ordered  for  me,  was  it  not,  Brix 
ton  ? — for  me  ! " 

She  swept  him  from  head  to  foot  with  a  freez 
ing  glance.  "  Brixton,  take  this  insolent  fellow 
away." 

"  Come,  Bessie,  get  in,"  urged  Tyson,  but  Bessie 
hung  back  in  awe,  and  he  had  to  use  mild  force  in 
making  her  enter  the  carriage.  When  she  was  seated 
he  followed  her. 

"Brixton,  do  you  hear? — do  you  intend  to  obey 
me  ?  Call  the  other  men  ?  "Where  is  Lady  Cheam  ? " 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Her  vindictiveness  routed  her  manners,  and  Lady 
Wringcliff  attempted  to  climb  into  the  carriage. 

"Can  we  drop  you  anv  where,  Lady  Wringcliff?" 
Tyson  asked  with  a  mock  urbanity  attained  only  by 
splendid  resolution.  "  Probably  you  are  not  aware 
that  for  the  time  being  this  carriage,  this  house, 
these  servants  are  mine.  I  did  not  intend  that  it 
should  be  known,  but  you  compel  me  to  explain." 

Lady  "Wringcliff  alighted  in  a  frenzy  of  chagrin, 
and  called  again  for  Lady  Cheam. 

Tyson  raised  his  hat  with  perfunctory  dignity.  "  I 
am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  take  precedence  over  my 
guests,  but  we  have  barely  time  to  catch  the  train. 
Can  we  drop  you  anywhere? " 

Her  ladyship  became  rigid  and  with  her  head  high 
in  the  air  re-entered  the  hall,  while  Tyson  instructed 
the  coachman. 

"  To  the  Old  Town  station,"  he  said,  and  Brixton 
leaned  against  the  jam  of  the  door  to  support  himself 
against  impending  apoplexy. 


280 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XXV.     In  which  Two  Hearts 
are  Wrung 


THEKE  were  a  few  minutes  to  spare  when 
they  drove  up  to  the  Old  Town  station, 
which  stands  in  an  amphitheatre  of  the 
hills,  partly  natural  and  partly  quarried. 
The  trip   to    Southampton   by  way  of 
Kyde,  where  the  boat  meets  the  train, 
is  not  of  more  than  two  hours'  duration,  but  Tyson 
prepared  for  it  as  elaborately  and  with  as  much  bus 
tle  as  if  it  had  been  long  and  fatiguing.     He  put 
Bessie  in  a  corner  of  a  first-class  compartment,  and 
gave  a  shilling  to  the  guard  for  pasting  a  "  Reserved  " 
label  on  the  window.     He  tucked  her  up  in  his  rugs, 
and  sent  a  porter  to  the  little  hotel  adjoining  the  sta 
tion  for  sandwiches  and  fruit,  and  he  bought  all  the 
picture  papers  and  magazines  that  he  thought  would 
amuse  her.     He  smiled  on  her  and  patted  her  as  he 
busied  himself  with  her  comfort,  though  smiling  was 
an  effort  that  his  heart  resisted.     She  did  not  re 
spond,  except  in  timid  acquiescence  and  bewilder 
ment.     She  followed  him  with  her  eyes  as  a  shy  child 
observes  an  ominous  stranger ;   she  crouched  in  her 
corner  like  a  prisoner,  and  peeped  furtively  out  of 

281 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


the  windows  as  she  plucked  at  the  fur  of  the  rugs 
and  the  fingers  of  her  gloves.  She  said  she  was  not 
hungry  and  did  not  care  to  read.  Tyson  was  con 
scious  of  a  similar  bewilderment  and  confusion,  but 
he  opposed  her  impassivity  with  superficial  buoy 
ancy,  and  attempted  to  communicate  it  to  her  by 
telling  her  of  his  anxious  search  for  her,  and  of  his 
joy  in  finding  her,  and  of  all  the  pleasant  things  that 
now  lay  before  them. 

Yes,  he  was  sure  she  would  like  America,  and  he 
could  make  her  very  happy  there.  His  business  had 
not  been  thriving  lately,  but  though  he  was  not  now 
a  rich  man  there  would  always  be  enough  for  her, 
and  if  she  cared  to  do  so  she  might  keep  house  for 
him,  for  he  had  always  wished  to  have  a  home  of  his 
own.  Nor  should  she  be  lonely  ;  he  knew  a  lovely 
girl  out  there — a  very  old  friend,  a  very  dear  friend 
— who  would  be  sure  to  like  her — the  staunchest  girl 
in  the  world — about  her  own  age — and  he  tried  to 
tell  her  something  about  the  mine,  the  Senator  and 
Nona. 

A  favourite  verse  of  Tennyson's  came  into  his  mind, 
and  he  quoted  it,  taking  her  hand  again  as  he  did  so — 

"  The  old  order  changeth,  yielding  place  to  new, 
And  God  fulfils  himself  in  many  ways." 

The  little  engine  tooted  and  the  train  began  to 
move  towards  the  tunnel  which  pierces  the  heart  of 
the  downs  from  the  end  of  the  station  yard,  and 
Tyson  put  his  head  out  of  the  window  and  looked 
up  to  see  for  the  last  time  the  slopes  of  the  hills, 
sombre  in  the  afternoon  shadows,  where  he  and 
Mary  had  often  listened  as  one  to  the  voices  of  the 
sea  and  land.  He  welcomed  the  darkness  and  pri- 

282 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


vacy  which  the  tunnel  made ;  it  gave  him  time  for 
reflection,  and  to  fortify  the  composure  which  he 
found  so  difficult — to  hide  for  a  few  moments  the 
agony  which  was  in  his  heart  and  to  regain  his 
nerve.  When  the  little  train  came  out  into  the  day 
light  at  Wroxall  he  was  smiling  at  her  again,  and 
was  determined  that  he  would  draw  her  out  of  her 
apathy  and  make  her  smile  too.  She  was  so  like 
a  child ! 

"  Once  upon  a  time"  he  began,  "  there  was  a  prin 
cess  in  a  land  in  which  there  were  no  looking-glasses 
— not  a  mirror  of  any  kind,  and  people  could  not 
see  themselves,  and  young  people  wno  were  beautiful 
thought  they  were  old  and  ugly,  and  old  ones  only 
knew  by  the  pains  in  their  joints  how  old  they  were." 

She  looked  at  him  blankly  as  he  painfully  wove  his 
fantasy. 

"  Now  this  princess  had  a  dream  when  she  was  a 
child  that  quite  upset  her.  She  dreamed  that  the  sun 
went  down  never  to  rise  again,  and  because  she  had  a 
little  pain  somewhere  she  thought  that  all  her  people 
had  been  deceiving  her  about  her  age  and  her  beauty, 
and  that  she  was  an  old,  old  woman.  Whenever  she 
went  into  the  fields  or  the  woods  she  was  so  melan 
choly  that  the  birds  stopped  chirping  and  singing,  and 
though  the  sun  was  as  bright  as  ever  it  looked  dark 
to  her  and  all  the  land  seemed  foggy.  So  old  did 
she  feel  that  she  hobbled  along  with  a  staff  to  support 
her — not  that  she  needed  it,  but  because  of  her 
fancy." 

Tyson  paused  in  his  invention  and  before  proceed 
ing  with  the  fable  lifted  his  dressing  bag  out  of  the 
rack  and  opened  it. 

"  Now  she  had  a  brother  in  foreign  parts  who  got 

283 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


lost  in  a  great  wood  called  the  "World,  and  in  the 
midst  of  it  he  found  in  a  deserted  palace  a  mirror, 
which  was  not  at  all  flattering  to  him,  but  was  in 
teresting  as  a  curiosity.  He  thought  when  he  looked 
at  it  that  it  was  the  portrait  of  somebody  and  not 
his  own  reflection — it  was  not  good  looking  enough 
for  that,  and  he  could  not  understand  why  the  picture 
was  sometimes  there  and  sometimes  not.  However, 
he  was  very  good  to  his  sister,  and  of  all  the  things  he 
picked  up  in  his  travels  he  thought  that  would  please 
her  most. 

"  At  last  he  found  his  way  home,  and  was  greatly 
shocked,  of  course,  at  the  change  which  had  come 
over  the  Princess  in  his  absence.  *I  have  been  to 
the  end  of  the  world,'  he  said.  '  Alas  !  brother,'  she 
said,  '  I  am  at  the  end  of  the  world  now,  and  it  is 
very  dark  and  sad.'  He  put  the  mirror  on  a  table 
near  a  window,  and  soon  she  saw  the  birds  flying 
across  it  and  a  fountain  spraying  and  leaves  dancing, 
and  she  had  to  put  her  hands  to  her  eyes  to  shade 
them  from  the  rays  of  the  sun  as  they  struck  the 

flass.     '  See  !  there  is  a  picture  in  it !     Oh,  what  a 
eautif  ul  girl ! '    she  cried.      '  Nay,  no  picture  but 
yourself,'  said  the  brother,  who  now  understood  the 
secret. 

" '  Then  I  am  not  at  the  end  of  the  world  ? '  said 
the  Princess.  '  No,'  said  her  brother,  *  at  the  verv 
beginning.'  She  laughed,  *  And  what  do  they  call 
this  marvellous  glass  1 '  she  asked,  unable  to  take  her 
eyes  off  it.  '  I  do  not  know,  but  I  should  call  it 
Truth,'  her  brother  replied." 

At  this  point  Tyson  whipped  his  hand-glass  out  of 
his  bag  and  held  it  close  to  Bessie's  face.  She  smiled 
at  last,  and  he  stooped  down  and  kissed  her,  and 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 


laughed  with  relief.  "  There 's  the  princess  again — 
at  the  very  beginning  of  the  world  ! " 

After  that  Bessie  thawed,  and  when  they  sat  down 
to  dinner  in  a  cozy  room  of  the  hotel  to  which  they 
went  in  Southampton  (they  were  to  sail  from  that 
port  on  Saturday)  she  answered  and  asked  questions, 
and  though  Tyson  had  many  of  his  own  he  was  very 
careful  in  steering  them  away  from  others  which  he 
knew  in  his  heart  were  the  most  difficult  to  answer. 

In  the  morning  he  gave  her  a  sum  of  money  that 
surprised  her  and  sent  her  out  into  the  High  Street 
to  buy  the  things  she  needed  for  the  voyage,  while 
he  stayed  at  home  to  write  more  letters — to  send  Lady 
Cheam's  solicitors  what  was  due  her  for  the  remainder 
of  the  lease  of  Culvercombe,  which  now  had  but  a 
month  to  run,  and  to  send  a  long  cablegram  to  Mrs. 
Dennison  and  Nona  at  their  address  in  Washington. 

Bessie  soon  came  back  with  a  few  trifling  bundles 
in  her  hands,  having  spent  only  a  few  shillings  out  of 
the  pounds  he  had  given  her.  He  watched  her  se 
riously  pencilling  down  every  item,  and  when  she  had 
completed  the  reckoning  she  solemnly  handed  him 
the  memorandum  and  the  change  to  a  farthing. 

"Well,  you  are  extravagant!  How  could  those 
little  things  cost  like  that !  Why  its  nine  and  eleven 
pence,  three  farthings  !  " 

She  did  not  see  the  joke,  and  looked  at  him  in 
alarm. 

"Just  put  that  ridiculous  paper  in  your  pocket, 
you  goose,  and  come  along  with  me." 

And  he  took  her  out  among  the  shops  again,  and 
bought  her  a  beautiful  fur  coat  with  a  muff  and  a 
boa  to  match  ;  discussed  with  her  the  appropriate 
ness  of  certain  elaborate  costumes  in  the  windows 

285 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


and  sauntered  up  and  down  the  street  while  she 
went  within  for  various  mysterious  articles  which 
should  be,  he  advised  her,  of  the  very  best  quality 
and  all  wool. 

The  afternoon  was  still  before  him  and  Winsbury 
less  than  thirty  miles  away.  He  left  Bessie  sewing 
and  took  the  train,  promising  to  be  back  long  before 
dinner-time.  He  must  say  "  good-bye  "  to  Mary,  and 
he  knew  now  that  it  must  be  "  good-bye  "  for  ever. 
His  belief  was  fixed  :  he  had  no  doubt  whatever  that 
duty  must  prevail  with  her,  and  that  her  duty 
to  the  bishop  first  and  to  other  members  of  her  family 
after  would  be  paramount  and  as  irresistible  as  fet 
ters  of  steel. 

The  afternoon  service  was  on  when  he  arrived  at 
the  Cathedral,  and  one  of  the  canons  was  reading  in 
a  sepulchral  voice  the  first  lesson.  The  air  was  cold 
and  the  light  dim,  and  not  more  than  half  a  dozen 
persons  were  present  in  addition  to  the  clergy  and 
the  vergers.  The  reader's  voice  rumbled  harshly 
from  the  choir  to  the  clerestory,  and  sounded  as  if 
invisible  mockers  were  repeating  it  from  behind  the 
grey  pillars  and  the  high  arched  roof.  The  joyless 
words  fitted  Tyson's  mood  and  echoed  heavily  in  his 
ears  with  responsive  despondency. 

"  One  generation  passeth  away,  and  another  gen 
eration  cometh :  ~but  the  earth  abideth  forever. 

"  The  sun  also  ariseth,  and  the  sun  goeth  down,  and 
hasteneth  to  his  place  where  he  arose. 

"  The  wind  goeth  towards  the  south,  and  turneth 
about  towards  the  north  :  it  whirleth  about  continually ', 
and  the  wind  returneth  again  according  to  his  currents. 

"  All  the  rivers  run  into  the  sea  /  yet  the  sea  is  not 

286 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


full  y  unto  the  place  whence  the  rivers  come  thither 
they  return  again. 

66  All  things  are  full  of  labour  •  man  cannot  utter  it ; 
the  eye  is  not  satisfied  with  seeing,  nor  the  ear  filled 
with  hearing.  .  .  . 

"  That  which  is  crooked  cannot  be  made  straight : 
and  that  which  is  wanting  cannot  be  numbered." 

Mary  saw  him  as  she  turned  into  the  transept,  out 
side  of  which  there  was  a  private  entrance  to  the  pa 
lace  garden.  Her  face  was  grave  and  sweet,  and  when 
they  clasped  hands  the  pressure  of  hers  thrilled  him, 
and.  she  let  it  remain  in  his  instead  of  immediately 
withdrawing  it. 

"  Come  and  have  some  tea,"  she  said,  passing 
through  the  gate.  "  Nobody  is  at  home.  Uncle  has 
gone  to  Exeter,  and  Lancelot  has  returned  to  Wake- 
port  with  a  very  high  opinion  of  you.  You  got  my 
telegram  ?  I  sent  it  the  moment  I  read  that  dreadful 
news  in  the  papers." 

She  led  him  into  one  of  the  wainscotted  rooms, 
where  a  leafless  vine  was  tapping  the  diamond  panes 
in  the  leaded  and  mullioned  windows,  and  she  rang 
for  the  tea.  The  telegram  had  not  reached  him. 

"  It  does  not  matter,"  she  said  ;  "  such  things  are 
mere  matters  of  form — too  much  so  for  friends — 
are  n't  they  ?  The  more  we  know  each  other  the  less 
necessary  they  are.  You — you  did  n't  need  a  tele 
gram  to  tell  you  that  any  sorrow  of  yours  must  be  a 
sorrow  of  mine,  did  you  ? " 

"  I  was  sure  of  that,"  he  replied  gratefully,  and  she 
eagerly  asked  him  many  questions  about  the  Senator 
and  Nona  without  once  referring  to  the  mine,  though 
at  length  he  spoke  of  it. 

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How  Tyson  Came  Home 

"  It  makes  a  comparatively  poor  man  of  me,  but  I 
do  n't  really  know  how  I  stand  yet,  nor  how  we  shall 
come  out." 

"  That  can  be  borne — I  am  not  thinking  of  that. 
You  really  had  too  much  money,  and  riches  in  excess 
of  moderate  needs  are  seldom  a  blessing." 

He  smiled  wistfully  as  he  recalled  all  his  plans  to 
serve  her  in  serving  humanity.  "  I  guess  I  could  have 
made  use  of  all  I  had  without  wasting  a  penny  of  it." 

He  was  not  at  all  surprised  that  his  losses  appeared 
to  have  made  no  change  so  far  as  she  was  concerned 
in  their  relationship. 

"I  suppose  you  are  going  back  to  America  at 
once  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  To-morrow.     I  came  to  say  *  good-bye.' )! 

"And  when  are  we  to  see  you  again?  When 
Americans  once  know  England  they  return  with  the 
summer  like  the  birds,  year  after  year." 

"  Ah !  I  wish  I  had  n't  to  go  at  aft.  I  'd  like  to  wait 
and  wait — I  'd  never  get  tired  of  it — until  you  spoke 
as  you  said  you  might — some  day." 

He  drew  his  chair  a  little  nearer  to  her  and  reached 
for  her  hand.  A  moment  later  a  consciousness  of 
duplicity  not  only  restrained  him  from  any  further 
advance  but  relegated  him  to  despair.  She  knew  of 
his  reverses  and  of  the  death  of  Senator  Plant,  but 
nothing  of  the  recent  happenings  at  Culvercombe, 
and  when  she  learned  of  them,  as  she  would  be  sure  to 
do  sooner  or  later  even  if  he  did  not  inform  her,  what 
hope  could  there  be  for  him  then  ?— what  remnant  of 
justification  for  his  suit  ?  In  coming  to  Winsbury  it 
had  been  his  intention  to  take  leave  of  one  who  could 
never  be  more  than  a  friend  now  and  probably  for 
the  future  a  friend  only  accessible  in  the  memory  of 

288 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


a  dream.  However  constant  she  might  be  she  was 
lost  to  him  for  ever,  and  any  attempt  to  recover  her 
would  be  both  fatuous  and  selfish. 

"  No,  I  could  not  approve  of  that, — of  you  staying  " 
she  said,  replying  to  his  last  words  with  a  decided 
movement  of  her  head.  "  I  like  your  earnestness, 
your  strenuousness  and  your  common  sense.  You 
nave  plenty  of  use  for  them  now." 

He  looked  at  his  watch  and  rose. 

"  I  must  be  back  in  Southampton  by  six  o'clock. 
Somebody  waiting  for  me  there  sails  with  me  to 
morrow — my  sister." 

"You  have  found  her!  and  at  this  time!  How 
good  God  is !  Tell  me  about  her— tell  me  all  about 
her!" 

"  Not  now,  not  now." 

He  made  for  the  hall  with  a  scalding  pain  in  his 
heart.  "  Yes,  I  found  her  at  Culvercombe,  poor  child 
— at  Culvercombe — yes,  under  horrible  conditions — 
wronged — ruined ! " 

"  But  do  n't  leave  me  like  this,"  she  complained  as 
his  face  whitened.  "  I  surely  ought  to  know !  You 
surely  have  confidence  in  me." 

She  caught  him  by  the  arm  and  he  took  both  her 
wrists  and  drew  her  close  to  him  and  encompassed 
her  in  one  look  of  hopelessness  and  love.  He  could 
feel  her  warm  breath  on  his  cheek,  and  he  could 
have  kissed  her  without  offending  her — she  almost 
lifted  her  mouth  to  his — but  he  controlled  himself, 
and  turned  away. 

"  I  cannot  tefi  you  now,"  he  repeated.  I  cannot 
tell  you  more  than  that.  You  will  hear — you  must 
hear — and  you  will  be  sorry." 

She  offered  to  send  him  to  the  station  in  a  carriage, 
s  289 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


but  he  chose  to  walk,  and  waving  his  hand  to  her  he 
disappeared  through  the  postern  gate  leading  into 
the  silent  and  deserted  close,  while  the  hollow  voice 
of  the  old  priest  reverberated  the  lesson  of  the  day 
in  his  ears : 

"  That  which  is  crooked  cannot  be  made  straight, 
and  that  which  is  wanting  cannot  be  numbered" 


290 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Chapter  XXl^I.  Leaves  the  Reader 
to  Decide  IVhether  this  Story  Ends 
Happily  or  not 


NONA  had  the  spirit  of  a  general  in  battle 
who  cannot  allow  grief  for  the  fallen  to 
paralyze  him  but  must  push  on  to  save 
what  remains  from  further  disaster.     She 
buried  her  dead  on  a  hill,  whence  the 
Potomac  is  seen  sweeping  along  the  Vir 
ginian  shore  to  the  bay,  and  then  she  plunged  into 
action.     The  Senator  had  sold  none  of  his  stock,  and 
the  majority  of  the  shares  still  belonged  to  his  estate, 
to  her  and  to  Tyson.     She  was  determined  that  the 
control  of  the  property  should  not  pass  into  other 
hands,  and  was  confident  of  victory  in  the  end.     All 
of  the  real  stock  that  had  "  come  out,"  in  the  phrase 
of  "  the  Street,"  was  that  of  the  liquidating  and  panic- 
stricken  minority ;  the  rest  of  the  selling  had  come 
from  the  "  shorts,"  who,  as  perhaps  few  readers  need 
to  be  told,  sell  what  they  do  not  own  and  by  a  system 
of  credit  delay  the  delivery  until  the  price  has  fallen 
to  a  lower  figure,  and  they  are  able  to  fulfil  their 
obligations  at  a  profit.     That  is  their  plan  but  it 
is  precarious  and  sometimes  fails.    Instead  of  fall- 

291 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


ing  the  stock  may  rise,  and  in  that  event  they  are 
obliged  to  make  their  contracts  good  by  purchasing, 
or  "covering"  at  higher  prices  than  those  at  which 
they  sold.  When  defeated  they  are,  in  the  slang  of 
the  market,  "  squeezed." 

This  will  explain  an  exclamation  of  Nona's  as  she 
started  out  for  Wall  Street  from  the  Waldorf  in  a 
coupe.  She  was  alone,  for  Mrs.  Dennison  was  un 
well,  and  Xona  wanted  neither  woman  nor  man  to 
escort  her,  aid  her  or  advise  her.  She  knew  "  the 
Street "  and  its  methods  well — better  than  most  of 
the  little  "  lambs  "  in  breeches  who  assemble  morn 
ing  after  morning  in  the  brokers'  offices  until  they 
have  learned  how  quickly  shearing  can  be  done. 

"  Sixty-five  B  Wall  Street,"  she  told  the  driver, 
and  then  she  said  to  herself  inexorably,  "  I  do  n't  care 
who  they  are.  I  rll  squeeze  the  life  out  of  them — see 
if  I  do  n't." 

Her  mourning  became  her.  Her  face  under  her 
veil  was  paler  than  it  had  been,  and  all  the  tan  and 
freckles  and  dimples  had  vanished  from  it.  She 
looked  out  wearily  on  the  noisy,  confused  traffic  of 
the  city,  and  was  conscious  that  the  clang  of  the 
car  bells  and  the  rattle  of  the  wheels  produced  an 
unfamiliar  irritation  of  the  nerves.  A  sou  was  caught 
as  it  arose,  and  she  resolutely  closed  her  lips  before  it 
could  escape — she  diverted  herself  from  introspection 
by  giving  a  fresh  tilt  to  her  hat  and  sundry  deft 
touches  to  the  pins. 

The  panic  was  over,  but  as  the  doors  of  the  Ex 
change  swung  open  a  roar  like  that  of  a  distant  ava 
lanche  came  from  the  floor, — "  the  Board  "  as  they 
call  the  actual  market  place.  That  is  always  bois 
terous  and  tumultuous,  but  Wall  Street  even  in  the 

292 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


whirl  of  a  panic  is  one  of  the  most  stoical  and  least 
theatrical  places  in  the  world.  The  messengers  dart 
about  more  swiftly  than  usual,  and  the  telegraph 
boys  are  busier.  There  are  more  people  in  the  of 
fices,  but  they  gossip  less  and  tell  fewer  stories ;  they 
crowd  about  the  "  tickers "  and  stoop  to  anticipate 
the  numerals  before  the  clicking  little  wheels  can 
print  them  on  the  tape.  Gloom  is  in  many  faces  and 
grunts  of  dissatisfaction  can  be  heard  as  this  or  that 
stock  is  "  hammered  "  and  "  hammered  "  again  until 
its  foundations  shake.  A  man  who  has  a  check  in 
his  pocket  makes  haste  to  have  it  certified,  and  now 
and  then  a  customer  is  called  into  the  private  office 
to  meet  a  demand  for  more  margin  ;  the  telephone 
bells  allow  the  clerks  no  peace.  But  while  fortunes 
change  hands  or  vanish  altogether  as  in  a  day  of 
wrath  and  judgment  the  victims  control  their  emo 
tions  in  a  marvellous  way  —  they  may  hunch  their 
shoulders  and  depart  suddenly  with  a  curse,  but  they 
seldom,  if  ever,  do  anything  violently  emotional  or 
melodramatic,  and  never  stagger  out,  groaning  "  My 
God !  I  am  ruined  !  "  The  coolness  and  taciturnity 
with  which  a  panic  is  borne  is  one  of  the  most  sur 
prising  things  a  stranger  may  see  in  a  long  experi 
ence  of  human  nature.  "  They  take  their  medicine, 
like  good  boys,"  is  the  flippant  phrase  of  "  the  Street " 
for  recognizing  their  fortitude. 

"When  Xona  was  admitted  to  the  private  office  of 
the  President  of  the  Town  and  Country  Bank  he 
smiled  at  her  and  bowed  her  into  a  seat,  wondering 
as  he  did  so  how  she  had  taken  her  medicine,  the  bit 
terness  of  which  he  knew.  They  were  old  friends, 
and  he  had  been  to  Washington  for  her  fathers  fu 
neral.  Her  composure  amazed  him. 

293 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  Nona  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  want  to  borrow  some  money — at  once." 

"  How  much  ? " 

"  About  five  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  begin 
with — perhaps  more  later." 

The  president  tapped  on  his  desk  with  a  pencil  and 
closed  one  eye  to  concentrate  the  other  in  an  intensi 
fied  inquiry.  "Money  is  dear,"  he  said.  "We 
loaned  some  at  forty  per  cent  yesterday." 

"  What  are  you  charging  to-day  ? " 

"  Well,  that  depends  on  who  wants  it,  and  what 
the  collateral  is." 

"  I  am  the  one  who  wants  it,  and  the  collateral  is 
that  land  in  Denver.  You  know  it.  That's  good 
enough,  is  n't  it  ? " 

Two  railways  were  bidding  against  each  other  for 
the  land  she  spoke  of,  which  nad  been  transferred  to 
her  by  her  father  not  many  months  ago. 

The  president  pondered — he  was  a  spruce,  good- 
looking  man  of  not  more  than  forty,  with  a  high, 
clear  complexion,  and  drifts  of  premature  grey  in 
the  dark  hair  over  his  ears.  His  manner  was  pater 
nally  protective.  "Look  here,  Nona!  What  are 
you  up  to  ?  " 

*'  I  'm  going  to   squeeze    them  —  squeeze    them 

"  I  thought  so — but  had  n't  we  better  think  about 
it  ?  Wouldn't  it  be  wiser  to  compromise  instead  of 
forcing  a  further  contest  ? " 

"  Compromise  !  Compromise  !  "  she  said  indig 
nantly.  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  happen  to  know  that  Dougherty  is  eager 
to  buy  control  of  Sheba,  and  would  be  willing  to  pay 
you  ten  points  higher  than  the  market  price  for  your 

294 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


shares  and  Tyson's.  What  do  you  want  to  do  with 
the  mine  now  ?  It  is  too  great  a  responsibility." 

"  I  guess  Jim  and  I  can  bear  it  between  us." 

"  Mr.  Tyson  is  no  match  for  Dougherty  and  Pew- 
ster.  He 's  a  nice  fellow,  but  he  is  not  in  it  with 
gentlemen  of  that  kind." 

"Jim's  too  good-natured,  too  high-minded  for 
frauds  like  them,  that's  true  enough — but  he's  not 
so  easy  when  he 's  roused,  let  me  tell  you !  He 
has  n't  many  kicks  in  him,  but  they  're  good  ones 
when  he  makes  up  his  mind." 

"  A  compromise  would  end  litigation.  It  would 
leave  you  free  to  enjoy  yourself,  and  to  live  East." 

"  But  I  do  n't  want  to  live  East.  Is  n't  the  West 
good  enough  for  me  ?  I  have  n't  been  quite  happy 
since  I  left  it." 

"  Well,  had  n't  you  better  wait  till  Jim  arrives  ? 
He  and  you  are  joint  executors,  I  understand." 

"  Wait  ?  No — most  certainly  not.  I  want  to  have 
things  fixed  before  he  gets  back  so  as  to  surprise  him, 
and  I  'm  going  to  begin  right  now — just  as  soon  as 
you  let  me  have  that  money." 

"Are  you  sure  you  know  who  has  been  selling 
short?" 

She  glanced  at  him  impatiently.  "  Who  would 
dare  to  sell  it  short  but  Dougherty  and  Pewster  ? 
I  've  traced  the  selling — it 's  theirs  of  course.  They 
know  that  father  got  tied  up  in  that  Mexican  syndi 
cate,  and  they  thought  that  with  his  death  and  the 
strike,  and  the  accident,  and  Jim  in  Europe,  that  I  'd 
be  obliged  to  unload.  They  thought  they'd  freeze 
us  out.  Now,  I  '11  show  them !  I  believe  father 
would  have  been  alive  now  but  for  them." 

"  Nona,  you  need  rest  and  quiet.    Why  do  n't  you 

295 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


go  with  Mrs.  Dennison  to  Lakewood  for  a  few 
weeks?" 

"  What  I  want  is  revenge,  and  I  '11  have  it." 

She  rapped  the  desk  with  her  knuckles. 

"  I  am  afraid  of  you,  Nona,  when  those  orange 
spots  come  into  your  eyes.  *  Vengeance  is  mine, 
saith  the  Lord.' " 

"  That 's  so,  but  John  Hay  knew  what  that  meant. 
He  got  that  all  right  in  one  of  his  poems : 

**  'Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  the  Lord. 
But  hath  He  no  instrument  here  ? '  n 

She  clenched  her  strong  hands  again,  and  her  lifted 
veil  showed  her  tightened  lips.  In  her  eyes  were  the 
colours  that  film  the  sea  in  the  sultry  hushes  before  a 
storm.  The  president  looked  at  her  earnestly,  and 
was  diverted  for  a  moment  from  business  considera 
tions  to  a  conscious  observation  of  her  beauty  and  a 
perception  of  vague  contingencies  essentially  per 
sonal  in  their  nature. 

"  The  collateral  is  ample  ? "  she  inquired. 

The  president  sighed.  "  I  think  that  will  be  all 
right." 

"  Then  let  me  use  your  telephone.  I  want  to  get 
hold  of  Eossiter  Sharpe." 

This  was  the  name  of  one  of  the  cleverest  opera 
tors  in  Wall  Street. 

"  He 's  going  to  be  the  man  at  the  gun,"  she  ex 
plained.  "  I  can't  stay  here.  I  've  got  to  go  out  to 
Sheba  to  settle  that  strike,  but  you  watch  out !  Be 
fore  the  week  is  over  you  '11  see  some  fireworks, 


The  president  escorted  her  to  the  coupe  and  lingered 
wistfully  at  the  open  window  when  she  was  seated — 

296 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


he  was  sorry  to  see  her  go,  and  was  sacrificing  precious 
time  in  attending  her — but  there  was  no  coquetry 
in  her  and  she  did  not  respond  to  his  smile.  The 
president  sighed  again  as  she  drove  away. 

She  started  for  the  West  that  night,  and  settled 
the  strike  so  quickly  that  all  who  heard  of  her  achieve 
ment  began  to  think  that  it  would  be  a  good  idea 
to  always  have  women  on  Boards  of  Arbitration  in 
labour  difficulties.  Then  she  hastened  back  East,  and 
arrived  in  New  York  the  evening  before  the  day  on 
which  Tyson's  ship  was  due. 

The  ship  was  anchored  at  Quarantine  when  Tyson 
came  on  deck  in  the  wintry  dawn,  and  the  great  clus 
ter  of  high  buildings  near  the  Battery,  with  their 
pinnacles,  towers  and  gilded  cupolas  loomed  phantom- 
like  in  the  rosy  haze.  Time  was  when  it  was  easy 
to  get  permission  to  go  on  board  the  incoming  steam 
ers  by  the  doctor's  boat,  or  the  customs'  boat,  but 
that  privilege  has  been  cancelled  and  an  inexorable 
rule  against  it  is  relaxed  only  when  visiting  royalty, 
ambassadors  or  people  of  high  official  position  arrive. 
Nevertheless  as  the  doctor's  boat  puffed  out  from  the 
shore  that  morning  Tyson  perceived  two  ladies  in  her 
pilot-house,  and  as  she  came  alongside  the  big  ship  he 
recognized  Nona  and  Mrs.  Dennison.  Contrary  to 
other  rules  a  ladder  with  wide  steps  and  a  rail  was 
lowered  for  them,  and  the  first  thing  Mrs.  Dennison 
exclaimed  when  they  reached  the  promenade  deck 
was,  "  Jim,  this  girl  will  be  my  death  yet !  She 's 
had  me  up  all  night,  and  tenting  on  an  alkali  desert, 
or  chasing  Indians  among  the  lava  beds  is  a  life  of 
ease  and  luxury  in  comparison  with  the  life  she  leads 
me." 

Nona  petted  her.  "Never  mind,  honey,  never 
297 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


mind.  We  11  all  be  going  back  to  Sheba  soon,  and 
the  life  of  a  chaperon  is  n't  hard  there.  You  can 
just  be  an  allegory  of  the  Law,  like  a  picture  in 
one  of  the  court  nouses — just  look  as  severe  and 
as  superior  as  you  like — but  say  nothing  and  do  noth- 


[er  manner  to  Tyson  was  warm,  and  she  blushed 
as  he  held  her  by  both  wrists.  She  was  more  sedate 
and  maturer  than  when  he  had  parted  from  her ;  a 
woman  instead  of  a  hoyden. 

"  We  've  got  them,  Jim ! "  she  informed  him  tri 
umphantly. 

"  Got  them  ? " 

"  Cornered !    Sheba  closed  at  forty  last  night." 

"The  Strike?" 

"  All  over.    I  settled  it  on  a  profit-sharing  basis." 

"  The  accident  to  the  smelter  ? " 

"Doesn't  cost  us  a  cent.  The  Allis-Chalmers 
people  are  repairing  it  at  their  own  expense." 

"The  in  junction?" 

"  Father  appealed  that." 

Tyson  could  not  speak ;  he  could  only  gaze  at  her 
through  misty,  swimming  eyes  with  great  wonder 
and  admiration. 

"Yes,"  Mrs.  Dennison  commented,  "that's  the 
kind  of  girl  she  is  !  Why,  if  she  were  a  man,  and 
unhampered  by  the  tyranny  of  her  petticoats  she'd 
be  President  and  Cabinet  too  and  still  sigh  for  other 
worlds  to  conquer." 

"Alexander  and  Caesar  wore  petticoats,"  Nona 
reminded  her. 

"  Yes,  and  they  were  shockingly  short,"  her  com 
panion  replied.  "Any  way  I  do  wish  you'd  let  a 
poor  old  woman  have  her  natural  sleep ! " 

298 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


Bessie  had  not  appeared,  and  when  Mrs.  Dennison 
inquired  for  her  Tyson  whispered  to  her.  He  had  sent 
her  a  private  cablegram  in  addition  to  that  in  which 
he  had  informed  Nona  that  he  was  not  returning 
alone,  and  Mrs.  Dennison  understood.  She  went 
with  Nona  to  Bessie's  stateroom,  and  brought  her  to 
Tyson  in  the  saloon,  where  they  all  sat  down  to 
breakfast. 

"  Somehow  you  do  n't  seem  like  a  stranger,"  Nona 
said  to  Bessie.  "  It 's  just  as  if  you  'd  been  away 
awhile  with  Jim  and  we  ?d  come  to  welcome  you  home." 

Bessie  smiled  timidly  and  looked  at  her  brother 
with  the  docile,  appealing,  questioning  eyes  of  a 
dumb  animal  desiring  instruction. 

*          ******* 

Two  years  later  Nona  and  Mrs.  Dennison  were 
living  together  in  the  great  house  at  Sheba,  and  the 
mine  was  prospering,  though  a  net  of  litigation  still 
hung  over  it.  Pewster  had  transferred  his  attention 
to  South  Africa,  and  Dougherty  had  retired  to  the 
splendours  of  a  marble  palace  facing  the  Park  on  up 
per  Fifth  Avenue.  Tyson  had  built  a  lodge  for  him 
self  on  a  site  from  which  all  signs  of  the  mine — the 
mills,  the  chimneys  and  derricks — were  hidden.  He 
had  chosen  that  spot,  because  looking  from  it  was 
like  turning  one's  back  on  the  inhabited  world  and 
retiring  to  the  solitudes  of  nature.  The  stunted  sage 
brush  speckled  the  yellow  plain  until  it  met  the  curl 
ing,  surf -like  fringe  of  the  porous,  crumpled,  steely- 
grey  lava,  and  the  Mountain  of  To-morrow  clove  the 
rarified  air  with  its  pyramid,  which  amethystine 
by  day  deepened  as  the  sun  descended  into  sapphire, 
and  changed  again  in  the  last  rays  to  a  purple  shot 

299  . 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 

with  gold.  Bessie  who  had  come  out  of  her  trouble 
childless  lived  with  him,  and  was  the  sole  mistress  of 
his  house.  In  all  that  duty  and  affection  called  for 
she  was  unfailing,  but  his  many  inventions  to  charm 
her  out  of  her  gloom  resulted  in  nothing  more  than 
a  pathetic  and  evanescent  reflection  of  his  intention, 
and  her  cheerfulness  lasted  only  as  long  as  her  con 
scious  effort  to  please  him. 

He  found  her  weeping  in  her  bedroom  one  evening, 
and  when  he  asked  the  reason  she  sobbed  and  flung 
herself  on  the  bed. 

"  He 's  dead — he 's  dead  ! "  she  moaned.  "  He 's 
dead,  and  I  love  him !  I  've  always  loved  him ! " 

She  pointed  to  an  English  newspaper  of  recent 
date,  and  though  he  instinctively  knew  what  was  in 
it  he  searched  its  columns  till  he  fell  on  a  brief  notice 
of  the  death  of  Julian  Glynne  at  an  obscure  little 
hotel  in  Paris. 

Tyson  had  heard  from  Mary  soon  after  his  return 
to  New  York ;  her  letter  was  kind,  but  restrained — 
a  letter  that  without  a  word  of  farewell  seemed  to 
have  in  full  view  an  impassable  situation  from 
which  there  could  be  no  advance.  That  she  had 
heard  of  what  took  place  at  Culvercombe  he  could 
not  doubt,  for  an  anonymous  person  had  sent  him, 
and  Mrs.  Dennison,  and  even  Nona,  copies  of  an 
issue  of  "  The  Hornet's  Nest " — the  paper  to  which 
Pewster's  friend,  Mrs.  Mannington  Freake,  was  a 
contributor — containing  a  marked  paragraph  headed 
"  The  Millionaire  and  the  Maid  of  all  Work."  He 
surmised  that  the  sender  in  her  malice  had  not  over 
looked  in  the  gratuitous  distribution  anybody,  friend 
or  enemy,  who  might  be  stung  or  amused  by  that 
paragraph.  The  situation  was  not  less  irrevocable 

300 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


or  less  insuperable  to  his  own  understanding  than  it 
was  in  the  interpretation  he  extracted  by  intuition 
from  Mary's  words  ;  it  was  not  what  they  said  but 
what  was  left  unsaid  that  convinced  him. 

When  he  wrote  his  answer  it  was  brief  and  formal 
and  made  no  appeal  to  either  sentiment  or  passion- 
to  the  past  or  to  the  future,  though  between  each  of 
his  words  visions  appeared  of  some  dear  scene  or 
incident  in  their  companionship — the  jewelled  hilt  in 
the  sky ;  the  downs  in  the  waning  light,  with  the 
stars  fluttering  like  white  anemones  in  fields  of 
hyacinth  and  pink  roses,  and  the  avenue  of  shadow 
across  the  quiet  lawn  of  the  Palace  garden.  The 
ecstacy  of  that  afternoon  on  the  haunted  plain  be 
yond  Winsbury  when  his  heart  had  declared  itself 
throbbed  in  his  veins  again. 

Before  he  sealed  his  letter  another  memory  re 
called  to  him  how  he  had  picked  up  that  ancient 
book  which  Mary  had  been  reading  in  the  drawing- 
room  at  Culvercombe,  and  how  he  had  put  it  down 
without  understanding  it.  It  seemed  to  be  in  his 
hands  again — he  could  feel  its  substance — and  he  was 
again  shutting  it  with  a  sigh  and  closing  forever  the 
old  silver  clasp.  In  another  mood  it  seemed  to  him 
that  Mary  had  never  been  of  this  earth,  that  she 
was  less  than  a  woman  and  more  than  a  woman. 

Bessie  pined  under  the  news  from  England  and 
Nona  nursed  her  through  a  long  illness.  It  was  to 
Nona  that  Tyson  gave  credit  for  her  recovery,  though 
a  professional  nurse  from  Denver  had  not  been  alto 
gether  superseded  by  Nona's  ministrations.  Tyson 
watched  his  sister  growing  stronger,  and  at  the  end 
of  her  convalescence  she  was  more  animated  than  he 
had  ever  seen  her  before. 

301 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


"It 'sail  Nona,"  she  declared  to  him.  "I  can't 
be  miserable  when  she 's  around.  And  Oh,  Jim," 
Bessie  added  in  a  whisper,  "  she  worships  you.  Do  n't 
you — do  n't  you  love  her  ? " 

Tyson  parried  her,  and  all  he  said  was,  "  It  makes 
me  happy  to  see  you  girls  getting  along  so  well  to 
gether."  But  the  answer  came  indirectly  some 
months  later. 

It  was  spring,  and  Tyson  and  Nona  had  been 
spending  the  afternoon  at  Fort  Navajo.  When  they 
returned  at  sundown  Nona  entered  the  drawing- 
room  of  the  great  house,  and  remained  standing  and 
swishing  her  riding  skirt  with  her  whip  after  she  had 
given  a  military  salute  to  Mrs.  Dennison,  who  was 
sewing.  Her  face  was  brown  and  jocund  again,  and 
a  flame  danced  in  her  eyes.  His  hair  had  grown 
grey,  and  the  hard  work  and  care  he  had  given  to 
the  mine  had  left  a  record  of  wrinkles. 

"  General,"  she  said — she  often  called  Mrs.  Denni 
son  u  general " — "  General,  you  are  to  be  retired  on 
a  special  pension  and  with  a  vote  of  thanks.  You  've 
sometimes  been  a  martinet,  but  you've  always 
tempered  justice  with  mercy,  and  worked  for  the 
good  of  the  service.  You  're  a  good  old  general." 

The  old  lady  looked  at  her  inquiringly. 

""What  nonsense  is  it  now, Nona?" 

"  Nonsense !  I '  m  in  dead  earnest.  Jim  takes  com 
mand  of  this  garrison,  that 's  all.  Salute  him !  I  've 
done  it  already." 

"Oh,  I  'm  not  one  bit  surprised ;  it 's  exactly  what  I 
expected, "  Mrs.  Dennison  declared  with  pride  in  her 
imaginary  prescience,  as  Tyson  kissed  her  forehead. 

She  kissed  Nona,  and  then  gathering  her  trifles  to 
gether  left  them  alone.  Nona  followed  him  to  the 

302 


How  Tyson  Came  Home 


low  casement  window  and  resting  her  head  against 
his  shoulder  looked  out  with  him  over  the  plain  and 
the  old  pueblo  to  Manana  shining  beyond  in  its  gold 
and  purple. 

"  We  can  go  and  live  in  England  if  you  'd  like  to, 
Jim, "she  said. 

He  shook  his  head.  "  No,  no,  this  will  do  for  me. 
Is  n't  it  beautiful  to-night  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  guess  you  love  it  as  much  as  I  do  after 
all." 

"  It 's  home  to  me." 

"  That 's  right,  Jim.  That  Js  the  way  I  like  to  hear 
you  talk." 

And  Nona  went  to  a  crystal  bowl  on  a  small  table 
and  took  from  it  an  apple,  which  she  munched  in 
supreme  content. 


The  End 


303 


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TRUTH.  By  EMTLI  ZOLA.  Translated  by  Erncit  A.  Vize- 
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This  is  the  third  novel  in  the  "Four  Evangelists"  series,  following  "Labor" 
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great  author's  untimely  death.  In  plot  the  story  is  virtually  a  resetting  of 
the  celebrated  Dreyfus  case,  and  the  experiences  of  the  hero  correspond  in 
many  instances  exactly  with  those  of  Zola  himself  in  the  famous  affair* 


MRS.  WILFRID  WARD 

THE  LIGHT  BEHIND.  By  MRS.  WILFRID  WARD. 
izmo.  $1.50. 

The  author's  previous  novel  "One  Pooi  Scruple*'  acquired  considerable  popu 
larity  as  a  deft  handling  of  one  of  the  problems  presented  by  the  influence  of 
Roman  Catholicism  on  modern  social  life. 


VANDA  WATHEN-BARTLETT 

THE   GAP    IN   THE    GARDEN.     By  VAWDA  WATMIH- 
BARTLETT.     1 2mo.     £  i .  50. 
By  the  same  author :  "  Heart's  Desire.** 


ANONYMOUS 

ELIZABETH'S    CHILDREN.     121110.     £1.50. 

This  book  is  in  direct  descent  from  the  famous  "Visits  of  Elizabeth1 
"The  Letters  of  Her  Mother  to  Elizabeth." 


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With  short  Introductions  by  Algar  Thorold, 

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NEW  VOLUMES 

Vol.  XV.     EUPHRANOR.     By  EDWARD  FITZGERALD. 

Vol.  XVI.     TYPEE  :     A  real  Romance  of  the  South  Seas.      B 

HERMAN  MELVILLE.      Edited   with  an  Introduction   by  W 

Clark  Russell,  and  notes  by  Marie  Clothilde  Balfour. 
Vol.  XVII.     OMOO:     A  real  Romance  of  the  South  Seas.   B; 

HERMAN  MELVILLE.     Edited  with  an  Introduction  by  W 

Clark  Russell,  and  notes  by  Marie  Clothilde  Balfour. 
Vol.  XVIII.     MR.    MIDSHIPMAN   EASY.        By    CAPTAU 

MARRYATT. 

Vol.  XIX.     PETER  SIMPLE.     By  CAPTAIN  MARRYATT, 
Vol.  XX.     THE  BERTRAMS.   By  ANTHONY  TROLLOPE.   Wit] 

an  Introduction  by  Algar  Thorold. 
Vol.  XXI.     THE  THREE  CLERKS.     By  ANTHONY  TROL 

LOPE.      With  an  Introduction  by  Algar  Thorold. 

VOLUMES  ALREADY  PUBLISHED 

Vol.  I.     ADAM  BEDE.     By  GEORGE  ELIOT. 
Vol.  II.     SCENES  OF  CLERICAL  LIFE.     By  GEORGE  ELIOT. 
Vol.  III.     THE  MILL  ON  THE  FLOSS.     By  GEORGE  ELIOT. 
Vol.  IV.     SILAS  MARNER.     By  GEORGE  ELIOT. 
Vol.  V.     BARCHESTER  TOWERS.     By  ANTHONY  THOLLOM. 
Vol.  VI.     DR.  THORN E.     By  ANTHONY  TROLLOPI. 
Vol.  VII.     THE  WARDEN.     By  ANTHONY  TROLLOPS. 
Vol.  VIII.     FRAMLEY  PARSONAGE.     By  ANTHONY  TROLLOP*. 
Vol.  IX.     LAVENGRO.     By  GEORGE  BORROW. 
Vol.  X.     THE  ROMANY  RYE.     By  GEORGE  BORROW. 
Vol.  XI.     THE  BIBLE  IN  SPAIN.     By  GEORGE  BORROW. 
Vol.  XII.     THE  ZINCALI.      By  GEORGE  BORROW. 
Vol.  XIII.     THE  SCARLET  LETTER.      By  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE. 
Vol.  XIV.     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  SEVEN  GABLES.     By  NATHANIKI 
HAWTHORNE. 


THE  CANVASBACK  LIBRARY 

A  Uniform  Series  of  Some  Favourite  Popular  Novels 

Bound  in  stiff  Decorative  Boards 

1 2mo.      7  J  cents  each 

VOLUMES  NOW  APPEARING 

i.     MADEMOISELLE  BLANCHE.      By  JOHN  D.  BARRY,  author  of  »  A 

Daughter  of  Thesp'u,"  "The  Intriguers,"  etc. 
i.     HIS  FORTUNATE  GRACE.     By  GERTRUDE  ATHERTON,   author   of 

"  Senator  North,*'  "  Patience  Sparhawk,"  etc. 

3.  THE  JUDGMENT  OF  HELEN.     By  THOMAS  COBB,  author  of  "Mr. 

Passingham,"  **  Carpet  Courtship,"  etc. 

4.  MADEMOISELLE   MISS.     By   HENRY  HARLAND,    author  of  "The 

Cardinal's  Snuff-Box,"  "The  Lady  Paramount,"  etc. 

5.  BROKEN  AWAY.     By  BEATRICE  E.  GRIMSHAW. 

6.  KITWYK.     By  MRI.  JOHN  LANE  (Anna  lichberg  King),  author  of 

"  Brown's  Retreat,"  etc. 

7.  COMMENTS  OF  A  COUNTESS.     Anonymous. 

8.  THE  USURPER.     By  WILLIAM  J.  LOCKE,  author  of  "  Where  Love  Is," 

"Idols,  "etc. 

9.  A  SECOND  COMING.     By  RICHARD  MARSH. 

10.  REGINA:    OR,  THE  SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS.     By  HERMANN 

SUDERMANN.     (  A  translation,  from  the  German,  by  Beatrice  Marshall,  of 
"DerKatzensteg"). 

11.  LOVE   OF  COMRADES:    A  Romance.    By  FRANK  MATHEW,  author 

of «'  One  Queen  Triumphant,"  "  The  Wood  of  the  Brambles,"  etc. 
IX.     THE  BEAUTIFUL  MRS.  MOULTON.    By  NATHANIEL  STEPHENSON, 
author  of  "They  That  Took  the  Sword,"  '«  Eleanor  Dayton,"  etc. 

13.  VISITS  OF  ELIZABETH.     By  ELINOR  GLYN,  with  photogravure  front 

ispiece  portrait  of  the  heroine. 

14.  A  YEAR  OF  LIFE.     By  W.  S.  LILLY. 

15.  THE  CATHOLIC  :  A  Novel.     Anonymous. 

16.  JOHN  BURNET  OF  BARNES.     By  JOHN  BUCHAN,  author  of  "  A  Lost 

Lady  of  Old  Years,"  "  Grey  Weather,"  etc. 

17.  SCRUPLES.     By  THOMAS  COBB,  author  of  "Severance,"  "The  Dis 

semblers,"  etc. 

1 8.  LUCK  O'  LASSENDALE.   By  the  RT.  HON.  THE  EARL  OF  IDDESLEIGH, 

author  of  "  Charms  :  a  Novel,"  etc. 

19.  SUNBEETLES :     A  Comedy.     By  THOMAS  PINKERTON. 

10.      IDOLS.     By  WILLIAM   J.  LOCKE,  author  of  "  Derelicts.*'   "  A  Study  in 
Shadows,"  "The  White  Dove,"  etc. 

Other  Volumes  in  Preparation 


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